


Haunted by Your Shadows

by A_Court_Of_Shadow_And_Blood



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Action & Romance, Adventure & Romance, Assassination Attempt(s), Canon-Typical Violence, Espionage, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Fantasy, Friendship/Love, Kindred Spirits, Loss of Identity, Mates, Post-War, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:40:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28960365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Court_Of_Shadow_And_Blood/pseuds/A_Court_Of_Shadow_And_Blood
Summary: Bound together by fate. Divided by duty. Unified in desire.Kia has dreamt of the Shadowsinger for as long as she can remember; she has been his silent companion in slumber down the centuries without ever really knowing why. When fate finally brings Azriel into her life, Kia struggles to maintain the boundaries between her duties to the Guild of Assassins and her spiraling feelings for the Illyrian Spymaster. Could he hold the answers to the mysteries of her lost past?The war with Hybern is over, but new threats now endanger Azriel's Court. Eris has taken power in the Autumn Court and there are whispers across Prythian that his soldiers are massing at the borders. With all the entrances to the Autumn Court being warded off one by one, Azriel makes the decision to close himself in the Captial City - Carpathia -  to try and gather whatever information he can to protect his Court. Alone and without allies, struggling to find a foothold in this hostile city, the Spymaster meets the mysterious, beautiful, and head-strong, Kia. Unable to fathom his instant attraction to the Assassin, he makes a dangerous deal that sees them bound together.
Relationships: Amren & Azriel (ACoTaR), Amren/Rhysand (ACoTaR), Azriel & Eris Vanserra, Azriel & Rhysand (ACoTaR), Azriel (ACoTaR)/Original Female Character(s), Elain Archeron & Azriel, Eris Vanserra/Original Character(s), Feyre Archeron/Azriel/Cassian/Rhysand
Comments: 29
Kudos: 66





	1. A Twist of Fate

Chapter 1

A twisted tree emblazoned on a sign, swinging in the wind. The musty scent of ale, stale cloth, rot, and autumn. Throngs of conversations ebbing and flowing with their own rhythm. Raucous laughter swelling over the crackle of embers, and glasses clinking over the noise of scrapping chairs on flagstones. There is warmth and grime, people moving against each other in dark closeness. The humidity of bodies at the end of the day, seeking refuge out of the cold by the fire. 

And there, there he is...

His shadows coil about him, swelling out of him like a perpetual ink blot that’s ever growing and shrinking. He is with them, but not. He is in the crowd, but apart from it. Those beautiful, cruel shadows eking from him. If you listen hard enough you can hear their whisper, spilling secrets in his ear like honey dripping down flesh. Can you hear them? They say she's close, so close. She is here, her scent is here. 

Shadowsinger - the Shadowsinger is waiting in the darkness for you.

\---- 

Kia jolted awake. What in the Gods name was that? Groggy, not fully awake, Kia fumbled around in the darkness trying to orientate herself. Roof, night time, Carpathia, Autumn Court... the mark. Shit. The mark. The job. Suddenly awareness crashed into her. I fell asleep on a fucking hunt. 

She scrambled in the dark looking for her binoculars. Finding them discarded at her feet, she hastily leveled them at 'The Fanhill Brothel' a few streets over. Turning it quickly to the open balcony doors three floors up, Kia sighed with instant relief. There. There the mark is, still utterly oblivious to her presence and fully engrossed in the arms of the lovely Cressida. She couldn't have been out that long then, but still - that was reckless. Falling asleep mid hunt, was so, so amateur. 

A memory dawns on her of another hunt, this time at the start of her training. Kia had drifted off whilst tracking a Hybern spy across the forest border to the Dawn Court. It was a simple job really, except she had been out the night before, had a few drinks, maybe sworn that she could drink any assassin at the guild under the table... She closed her eyes for no more than a second before she lost the mark. Aralm, the assassin tasked with shadowing her early training soon discovered her. He had promptly hauled her arse back to the Sett of Daggers to answer to Larak directly, before winnowing out to finish the job himself. Larak had punished her himself personally that night, with his eyes a blazing fury of rage and frustration. Centuries later and she could still hear the crack of the whip, feel how it pinched and tore at her skin as he struck again, again, again. He had not been forgiving.

Kia shook herself away from the fog of remembering and wrapped her jacket around her to protect against the cold evening breeze. She raised her gaze to the balcony once more to check on the mark. Blimey, this bastard had stamina - what was it, a good couple of hours now? In any other situation, she might silently congratulate him, but right now, right now she was fed up. No doubt she would have to pay Cressida double this rate for all the time he was taking, after all, she would be wanting to move onto her next customer soon. Kia scanned her eyes down to the barely visible back alley to whorehouse. Thankfully the guards of the fifth stationed outside hadn't changed shifts yet so, so long as the mark left within the next 30 minutes she could still complete the kill as planned. Else that was another guard to bribe. If needs must, she mused, she could always find another alley on the mark's route back to the textile quarter. A robbery at knifepoint gone wrong, who would suspect? 

She sighed into the wind. This kind of killing was lazy, even by her standards. She was better than paying off guards, backstreet butchery before cutting and running. She had her reasons. Three days she had to complete this job, and she be damned if she missed the Hallows Eve Solstice in the Autumn capital in order to stake out some lesser officer in the fifth unit of the Autumn Guard. Either way, there was nothing she could do but wait. No point busting into a packed whorehouse on a Friday night when most of the battalion had decided to spend their time and wages there.

Kia sighed and let herself fall back against the roof, the cold edges of the tiles gutting into her spine. A flicker of agitation swept over her wing muscles at the imposition, she adjusted and then settled. She really did need to stretch them out once this was over, it had been too long. 

Starring up at the stars, she allowed herself a moment to ponder the dream. The dreams had been getting worse recently, but this was so tangible, so vivid like she could almost feel his shadows curling around her skin - her very flesh ghosted by his invisible touch. The Shadowsinger had felt more real tonight than ever before.

This male had been appearing in her dreams for as long as she could remember; at first, he was a mirage, no more than a shapeless phantom of mist and fury. But with time, sleep offered her stolen moments of his life in fragments and pieces, revealing night by night his life over the centuries. The Shadowsinger felt so close to her after all these years, like a second self-wandering this earth outside of her body as she shared in his pain and frustrations as if they were her own. Their lives appeared in parallel, but always divergent. When she spent her last winter solstice on a hunt, she had dreamt of him sat around a table with his makeshift family, brooding and silent. Kia knew all their faces, knew all their names - Rhys, Feyre, Cassian, Mor... Strange how their faces felt as real to Kia as those in her own brothers and sisters of the guild. 

Yet there was loneliness, isolation in this male that harkened to Kia's own soul. They were both forever in company but perpetually alone, at least in the ways that often mattered most. On her darkest nights, Kia had told herself that one day she would seek him out. She would occasionally track his footsteps if the fates brought their paths closer together, had even bumped into a few of his 'family' over the years by accident ... but something always held her back from approaching him. Like some dreams were too precious to touch.

Pondering the details of the dream she had just stirred from, something nagged at Kia. She couldn't fight the feeling that she had seen that image of the sign with the twisted tree blowing in the breeze before. A twisted tree. Why was it so familiar?

A commotion on the street below abruptly stopped Kia from pursuing this line of thought and brought her attention back to the task at hand. Job now, think later. Stretching out the worsening knots in her shoulders, she raised her line of sight once more to the balcony. It seemed the mark had finally reached his natural point of endurance and was disentangling himself from Cressida at this very moment. Collecting the clothes he had strewn by her bed, he appeared to make a break for the door.

A feline smile spread across her lips. Excellent, Kia thought, time to go play.

..........

Kia had finished the job a whole two days earlier than expected, and quite frankly, she was in no rush to trundle on back to Larak so that he could give her another shitty punishment assignment. Not with the city all decked out for Hallows. There was a festive spirit in the air, jack lanterns hung in shop fronts and the scent of spiced cider hung ripe on the air. In all her centuries she had never been able to spend the solstice in Carpathia, to see the famous light festival. So why not wander the city a bit, explore, soak in the atmosphere this once? The night was the perfect time to walk the streets, few people stared to closely at this hour of revelry and merriment, which suited her. She just wanted to be an observer, to be a face in the crowd as the evening's spectacle unfolded. 

Her hood pulled up close around her face, weaving through the throngs of night-time merrymakers, she rounded a street. Quickly dodging a gaggle of drunken souls helplessly trying to hold each other up as the existed a nearby tavern. Stepping back, Kia's eyes lifted and fixed on the inns' sign. A twisted tree. A twisted oak. The Broken Oak Inn. She had seen it before. It was an inn near the city gates, she had passed it on her way into the city. But if she had seen this but hours previously through the eyes of another, perhaps, perhaps... was it possible he - the Shadowsinger - might be here in Carpathia? The thought clanged through her. Surely, it was not possible. How many centuries has their lives passed by seamlessly in tandem, parallel but never colliding? The fates had never brought them so close.

Before she could second guess herself, Kia pushed the inn door and stepped in off the street. 

.....

The scent of sweat and beer hit her as she angled her way into the Broken Oak. It was just how she dreamt it. Approaching the bar, Kia took the stool nearest the door and secured her hood round her face and shielding it in shadow. She rattled through her mental list of jobs she had performed in the city. Did she have any enemies in Carpathia? Walking the streets was one thing, showing her face in public and lingering was another. Especially with the barracks so close she could not afford a commotion. Kia resolved that she would not be staying long enough to find out, she just wanted to satisfy her curiosity.

From her aspect, she had a good view of the room. She scanned it between adjusting herself on the bar stool. Her eyes jumped between faces at each of the tables, before drawing back to the barkeep in an attempt to grab his attention. Dammit, he wasn't here. Kia's heart sunk, a voice within her cursed her stupidity, her blooming hope now wilting in her chest.

Of course, he wasn't here, it was a fool's hope to think he was. Get out of here and stop kidding yourself.

The barkeep approached. 

'What can I get you, love?' 

'Sorry, I think I have the wrong bar'.

Rising from her stool, Kia muttered her apologies in the barkeep's direction before turning to leave dejectedly. Wrapping her cloak about her and cradling the disappointment in her chest, she made her way to the door. 

Upon reaching the door and preparing to leave the muggy warmth of the inn, a flicker of something in the dark recesses of the inn caught Kia's eye. The shadows surrounding that table were moving. It took her less than a second the see him. Though his facial features were somewhat hidden by the expansion and contraction of those coiling shadows, Kia could recognise his presence in a moment. How could she have missed him before? His sharp, cold yet infinitely beautiful features; those wings of midnight tucked tight against him. 

His stare was fixed on a figure sat opposite him. As the door behind her to the street swung open and the breeze of cold night air blew through the inn, the Shadowsinger's companion suddenly started and looked anxiously towards the door. Kia jolted in involuntary recognition. It was the guard from the brothel. The one she paid off. Shit, this did not bode well.

Confused, but loathing to step away from this man who had plagued her dreams, Kia was suddenly acutely aware that she was standing stock still and directly in their line of sight. Whatever this was, this meeting, her recent involvement with the guard at the Fallhill was too much of coincidence to linger. Something in her gut uprooted her, and Kia dived out onto the street. 

What in God’s name was the Shadowsinger doing here with him?

\-----

This was stupid. I shouldn't be doing this, I should leave.

Every bone in Kia's body told her to leave, to race from this place and the danger that lingered for her in the dead of this night, but something rooted her to the ground. She had to see him, if just for a little while longer. She brushed off her own darkness, her own shadows which called her further into the alleyways and stood watching.

Kia had positioned herself down a neighboring side alley shortly after leaving the inn, watching the entrance to the Broken Oak like a hawk. She decided that she had to see him, just one more time. Then she would go back to the rooftop on which she has stashed her belongings and start her journey back to the Sett, she swore. She would throw herself into her work, take whatever nasty job Larak threw at her, block out the dreams and get on with life. But for the sake of one night, she had to know.

It was less than twenty minutes before he appeared, slipping away from the Inn and down into the main street. She could have sworn for a moment that his face tilted upward towards her direction, but in a heartbeat, he had disappeared into a throng of the crowd moving through the main street.

Kia slowly stalked from the recess she had been hiding in and silently moved through the pack of the night-time ramblers, observing him from a distance. Though largely hidden beneath a cloak, his face obscured, Kia could feel the whispers of his strength in the way his shoulders held themselves. There was preciseness in his step, like every move he made was conscious, thought out, purposeful and yet with infinite ease. He moved a creature of the night, blink and he would have disappeared into blackness. This male was a true predator. Even some of the most sought after killers in the guild palled in comparison. 

Distracted in her observations, Kia nearly started when he suddenly altered course. She had been following him towards the city gates, toward the river, when he suddenly broke from the crowd and darted down a side alley. Picking up her pace, Kia moved to follow him, turning silently down the darkened alley. It took her eyes a second to adjust to the bloom as she stumbled on further in.

The blow caught her unawares. 

No sooner had she entered the alley a body of shadow and muscle crashed into her, lifting her off her feet and into the alley wall. With the Shadow singer’s blade at her throat, his body crushing up against her. His face inches from hers, he snarled.

'Who are you?'


	2. The Dagger in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knife to her throat, Kia must use all she knows of the Shadowsinger to free herself.

'Who are you?'

The cold, sharp edge of the blade pressed firmer against Kia's throat, as she tried to push herself away. The things she had seen this weapon do; Kia shivered at the recollection. The Shadowsinger's hood had fallen away with the movement of grabbing her, and Kia could now see his face fully, lit by the dim glow of the street beyond. She saw herself reflected back in his piercing hazel eyes, his stare hardening as he took her in.

Internally, she cursed. Idiot. Why had she not kept more distance when trailing him? Think. Think. You can't out move him, not in this position, not with her legs and arms pinned and a knife at her jugular. The slightest move and he would kill her, with ease. She just needed some distance, just enough to get back to the street and lose herself in a crowd.

The male adjusted to her weight and pressed her further.

'I won't ask again. Who are you?'

Think, quick.

'Layra' she muttered shakily.

'Layra' he rolled the name around his tongue. Gods, it sounded like sin on his lips, and alarmingly like her real name.

'Well, Layra, why are you following me?'

Kia frantically scanned back through the fragments of the Shadowsinger’s life she had gathered, looking for something, anything, to use in her defence. Her mind was her only weapon in this fight. Her thoughts flickered to a dream of a meeting she had witnessed a week ago with the Night's Courts High Lord - Rhysand - and his second - Amren - about stirrings at autumn court. They mentioned borders closing; loss of contact with the Autumn Court; covert misisons. Connections started to form in her mind. He had been meeting the guard, from the brothel. Kia remembered the hesitant, wary look on the guard's face, the way his eyes had darted to the door whenever it opened. Perhaps, the Shadowsinger was on a hunt too, but for intel. She prayed she was right.

'Amren sent me.' Kia breathed. 

The Shadowsinger pulled the blade a fraction away from her throat, the only signal of his surprise. Gotcha. She had figured this might be the only name that gave him pause for thought, and a little trepidation perhaps? 

He inclined an eyebrow, a sign that she should keep talking. Lies and truth, Kia thought, just weave lies and truth together like chainmail. Defend yourself with words.

'Amren, she sent me after you. To help. She was concerned you wouldn't receive a warm welcome in Carpathia. Might find its inhabitants uncooperative to the Night Court's Spymaster after Eris came to power. I, I, have contacts here, contacts you might find useful'.

Kia hoped this yarn would buy her enough time to work a way out of this.

A low snarled escaped the Azriel's mouth as he bared his canines at her. His face was closer to hers now, and Kia could feel his warm breath caressing the taught skin of her bare throat. 

'I don't need help.'

'You have been having trouble with your informants, yes? Not being as forthcoming as usual. I can help, I, I have men on the inside who know about Eris's military manoveurs. The guard, the guard you met this evening. From the fifth. The one stationed outside of the Fallhill establishment. He's one of mine.'

This was at least partly true. She had, of course, heard whispers of raids at Summer borders, drunken soldiers boasting in bars. Kai had seen first-hand the increased military presence in and around the city since her last visit, had seen the orders shutting - not that the wards affected her.

His grip on her didn't alter, yet something in his eyes shifted. Blink and she would have missed it, but this close it was unmistakable. Doubt.

The Shadowsinger's face hardened once again. His gaze became something unreadable, his eyes an impenetrable fortress of sharp, amber hues appraising the female before him. Then the taught body that held her to the wall softed, eased a little. The Truth-Teller lowered a fraction.

'I work alone. Amren knows that.'

Kia couldn't help herself, now she had the advantage. His being here, this close, it was intoxicating, emboldening. She raised a hand to stroke a shadow that was curling its way towards her face and smiled sweetly up at him. The shadow shuddered back from her touch as she preened 'Maybe, that's the problem'. 

Azriel recoiled like Kia had physically struck him. Good, it was his turn to be off-balance. 

'Excuse, me?'

She needed to hammer home her advantage. Kia sifted over this last week's dreams looking for ammunition. His brother - Rhys - hadn't wanted him to go. Amren had muttered something about him being self-sacrificing. Yes, yes, she could use this. 

'I mean that God forbid you realise you’re in over your head here. There is not a soldier here who does not know your face, does not know your hatred for Eris ' she drawled, 'Rhys and Amren both asked you to leave this mission. You refused. And voila, now here I am.'

This was too easy. His silence only emboldened her further.

'You need my help... Accept it. You might actually learn something.'

This last piece of information seemed to prove convincing enough for him. The corners of his mouth started to turn upward, letting out a quiet chuckle to himself. His warm breath still tickling her cheek. Cruel amusement flickered in his eyes. 

'Learn something, from you? A female who can barely trail a target without getting caught' 

Ooph. That hit hard. Kia could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. Who in the hell did he think he was? He knew nothing, nothing of her life, her centuries of training, her skill. Yes, it had been foolish to allow herself to be caught out like this, but still...Had the street not been so close, had she not spied at least two patrols passing by in the space of their conversation alone, should have pulled out her own blade and kicked his arse into the dirt for the insult. And I wouldn't even need to use my powers, she thought defiantly. 

Kia lifted her legs in the extra space she had won and kicked the Azriel in the liver. He stumbled back, caught off balance and winded, as her feet made impact with the floor. 

She straightened herself out and tried to regain her footing and some semblance of composure along with it. 

Gone was the humour in his eyes that had danced there moments previously. His features hardened again as he clutched at his side, the shadows swirling and coiling around the sharp contours of his face. Leaning towards her he hissed:

'Go back to Amren, I don't need or want her help. She shouldn't have interfered.' 

Before she could open her mouth to retort, he had spun on his heels. Sheathing his blade at his thigh, Azriel started to walk towards the exit back the street. Kia made to follow, but both of them stopped short when three patrolling soldiers entered the alley. 

Kia and Azriel realised their predicament almost simultaneously. The Shadowsinger could not be found here, in a dead-end alley in the capital city of the Autumn Court, this close the barracks at the city gates. Kia quickly looked up to survey the buildings above her for a foothold, an arm grip, something to hoist them off the city floor and to the rooftops. Nothing within reach. Damn, she couldn't use her wings in such close quarters. She could winnow, but what about him? Catching his eye, Kia surmised that the Shadowsinger had made a similar assessment. 

Even if she could get out, she was certain that this close to the city walls she would be seen. Her mind flashed back to the ash arrows she had spied upon entering the city. Even a single shout could bring a whole patrol down upon both their heads in moments, and Kia had more than one reason to wish that she didn't end up dead or in a jail cell tonight of all nights. They needed to become invisible...

Seeing the Shadowsinger's hand go to his blade, Kia made a snap decision. These soldiers did not need to die here, there was no need for any more unnecessary death tonight, not if it could be avoided. Before she could second guess herself, Kia grabbed the Shadowsinger by the scruff of his shirt and tugged him with her back against the alley wall. She quickly positioned him between her and the soldiers, his back to them. She ripped up his hood to hide the coiling shadows, anything that might hint at his identity. With the soldiers nearly upon them, Kia pulled him into a kiss.

Startled, it took it him a moment to realise her plan. If they couldn't physically disappear, then they needed to seem unremarkable where they stood in this alley. As a couple seeking privacy down a darkened alley, perhaps they would avoid attention, saving them both. 

The bristles of his stubble began grinding against her skin as he lips covered over hers. With an incline of the head, he flicked a shadow along the wall behind him to monitor the soliders at his back. He began slowly claiming Kia's mouth, her neck, her shoulder, trailing kisses along her exposed flesh. This close his scent bore into her. Waves of mist, sandstone and oak filled her nostrils. Gods he smelt good... and he was alarmingly good at this.

Kia could hear more than see the soldiers approach from this angle. Heard their feet crunch on gravel, the sound of metal armour scratching coarse linen shirts. Three of them. Roughly built, wide gait, one, no two daggers and a broadsword apiece, she appriassed. They weren't far off now, not long before they became visible. 

She heard one of them call out to her, whilst another snickered in their direction. She could sense more than hear the first drawing the other two close and whispering something low in their ears. The group erupted in conspiratorial laughter and nodded at each other, puffing their chests before heading in their direction. The Shadowsinger stiffened above her, his mouth having halted its journey down her neck. This wasn't going to plan. 

'Couldn't take your bird somewhere nicer than a backstreet, mate. Tsk. Poor way to treat a lady.'

Still with his back to the soldiers, Kia could feel something shift in Azriel. His wings tensed and began to retract towards his spine, his arm slowly reaching for his blade beneath his cloak. Kia knew this move herself, when in close combat, you protect your wings at all cost, bring them in tight and close, go for your blade. He was about to rain terror down upon them.

Hoping to delay what now seemed like the inevitable, Kia snarled at the approaching soldier

'Go find your own Lady to fuss over.' 

'We just did. Tell your fella to politely piss off, will you?'

The soldier nodded over to his fellows, and they responded by blocking off the entrance to the alley. The Shadowsinger stayed stock still, irritating the solider further.

'Oi. Get out of here.'

When he didn't shift the soldier came in closer, reaching out to grab a wave of Kia's hair. 

'What a pretty little do-'

The Shadowsinger moved so quick she barely registered the movement. One moment his hand was holding her waist, the next he had it in a vice-like grip around the soldier's wrist. Azriel's face still turned away from soldiers, he growled low into the darkness'

'Don't. Touch. Her.' 

The soldier recoiled in shock, trying to retrieve his wrist before signalling to the other soldiers. 

'Be on your way. You're outmanned, outnumbered. She's not worth your neck.' 

She felt more than saw the Shadowsinger's smile. 'You want to try me?'

They didn't have time for this. She needed to end this now, Kia thought, before more back up arrived. There was only one way this could now go, and it was south. Better she ended it than leaving them at the mercy of this living shadow. 

Kia slipped out from under the Shadowsinger's arm to positioned herself between the soldier to her left and those blocking her exit. She pulled her cloak away from her body to show off her figure below the night of the moon, flicking her ebony hair over her shoulder. Preening to the soldiers blocking her exit, she drawled:

'You want this?' 

To her left, she saw the Shadowsinger release the hand of the solider. All eyes were now fixed firmly on her, even those of the Shadowsinger. The two soldiers to her right slowly stalked towards her, the grins fixed to their faces revealing their greedy, vile intent. She reached her hand towards the first solider's face, drawing him away from Shadowsinger. She smiled devilishly at him, pulling him in closer to whisper: 'You think you can handle me?'. 

With the soldiers at her back within touching distance, she made her move. Moving swiftly, Kia grabbed the face of the first soldier and forced his body towards her with a knee to the stomach. Wrapping her arms around his neck to gutted his head to the side abruptly, breaking his neck in one swift move. Turning with the momentum of the act, she hurled his now dead weight towards the second soldier, who fell backwards into the dirt. Drawing her blade and turning to the third, she thrust it into the soft flesh of his side. He instantly doubled over clutching at wound. Before he could make a sound, Kia took a handful of his hair and ripping it back, sliced cleanly across his exposed throat. Blood sprayed over the alley wall opposite and she let his body drop to the ground. The second soldier, who now realised the danger he was in, was scrambled backwards towards the exit, fumbling at his bandolier to draw a dagger. Pitiful, Kia thought. She slowly stalked towards the final solider. Pulling out a handkerchief from her pocket she wiped off the blood from her hands, and then her blade. 

'Now look what you made me do. So messy'. 

Feeling the shadows at her back, two hazel eyes bearing into her spine, Kia closed the distance between herself and solider. Kicking away his hand from his bandolier, she raised her hand in front of the soldier's chest. 

With that, the soldier began clawing at his own throat, gasping for breath. Terror and confusion overcame his features, as he struggled to gulp lungful’s of the night air, his face contorting in pain. Kia stretched her fingers out, drawing out the air from his lungs, his very blood. Her untapped power now jerked to life and thrummed in her veins; delighted at the sudden release of pressure after so many days of restraint.

Beneath the collar of her shirt, she began to feel her own suppressed shadows clawing their way up her spine towards her neck. Kia tried to push them back, but they crawled onwards with her surging power. The dragged up towards her ear, dripping their venomous words into her mind. They sighed dark truths about the solider strewn out before her, the bruises he had inflicted, the lives he had taken, and what he had stolen from the women before her. So many women. Icy rage bit at her heart as she ground out the words.

'Never again.' 

Kia took his blade and thrust it into his heart. His body slumped back. Silence now descended on the alley. Retracting her blade, she raised herself upwards. Gritting her teeth she forced the shadows back, to retreat once more. 

Loosening a breath, she turned on the still, watchful Shadowsinger. 

She could have sworn something like recognition shone in his eye, like he was somehow seeing her for the first time. Killer to killer. Shadowsinger to shadowsinger.

Squaring her shoulders she muttered: 'That, that is why you can't work alone in Carpathia'.

\------


	3. A Union of Convenience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading - I love reading your comments. I have lots of exciting things planned for this story, so please be patient with me as I set it up. I promise you, there are some interesting things to come...

Kia hauled one of the dead soldiers over her shoulder. Well, that didn't go to plan. 

Behind her the Shadowsinger remained silent and annoyingly still. 

This is not how she envisioned this evening going. Threats, daggers, and dead bodies certainly had not featured in her daydreams of meeting Azriel - nor her first time experiencing the autumn solstice in Carpathia. Was she stupid for wanting some normality, some happiness, for once? Who was she kidding, this was who she - they - were: death on dark wings. What place did apple-bobbing, lanterns, and laughter have in the life of an assassin and a spymaster.

Adjusting to the soldier's weight, she turned and hissed in the spymaster's direction.

'Well don't rush to help, will you'. 

Stomping past him, Kia travelled further into the alley. There was no way they could drag these bodies out onto the street and not be noticed, not with the solstice festivities and the gates so close by. She could winnow them each in turn, but the strain on her energy - especially after the trek to Carpathia - it would be too much. It would leave her vulnerable at the very time she needed to be on the ball. It had to be in the alley then. 

Fortunately, Kia found a collection of bins servicing the townhouses that backed on the alley. She just had to hope the stench of the rubbish would mask the scent of blood and death that had begun leaking from them. Kia dropped the body at her feet and began hastily pulling out the linen garbage sacks.

Somewhere behind her she heard the Shadowsinger mutter something. Was he still just standing there staring? Gods, she had forgotten how much of his time this male spent brooding. 

'I'm sorry?' she hissed over her shoulder.

Further back, she could hear Azriel loose a sigh and eventually move. A clatter of armour and solid footsteps approached. A second body was dropped by her side.

'You're a Shadowsinger.'

Ah, yes, so he had seen. She had hoped the darkness of the night, the shadows of the overhanging building might conceal that. 

She usually kept a tighter rein on her own trickling darkness, but his presence was throwing her off. The shadows wanted out of that place inside her, they clawed at her insides, begging her to let them roam, to explore. Trust us, they beckoned, we can protect you. Kia had revealed more of herself than she wanted just now, the last thing she needed was to let them loose again before this male who saw too much. 

Kia paused a second too long before snapping back. 

'No shit, you think?' 

Her voice didn’t carry the dismissive confidence she hoped it would. Dammit, Kia, get yourself together.

'I've never met another Shadowsinger before.'

Turning to him, Kia found Azriel regarding her intently. His brows were furrowed, head tilted as watched her.

'Are there more of...us?'

His question was so timid that Kia couldn't help softening. She knew what it was to feel alone in this power they carried, it could be a burden as much as a skill to walk this world with shadows for company.

'Yes, but I have met only two. One was a Spell-Cleaver living in solitude in the heart of the Illyrian Peaks, but he passed two centuries ago. The other was a prison guard from Hybern'.

'What happened to him?'.

' - Her. I killed her.'

Kia turned back to the dumpster, conscious that the Shadowsinger had descended into silence once more. There was no way to soften this fact, except perhaps to offer him a small truth of her past to help explain. She hung her head and released a breath. 

'I took no pleasure in it. The guard. She tortured my friend with them- the shadows - and many like her in that prison. When Hybern fell in the war, I went and sought her out there. She didn't even know me... she didn't even know her own name.' She paused as images of Elianor crying in her cell flashed before her eyes; Kia swallowed the lump in her throat. 

'I found the guard and ended her, so that she might never inflict that pain on another creature again.'

There was silence for a long moment. The Shadowsinger raised his hand to Kia's shoulder and gently squeezed it. Before turning to fetch the final body, he paused by her and whispered in comfort.

'I would have done the same.' He loosed his hand and begun walking towards the final body.

Kia released some of the guilt that had been building in the pit of her stomach - of course, he understood what it was to see friends suffer. Kia tried to distract herself by lightening the mood, and couldn't resist trying to understand how he saw her.

'Dare I ask what your first impressions are of your fellow Shadowsingers?'

Moving back over to her, he dropped to the final body to the ground and arched his eyebrows as if thoughtful.

'Unexpected'.

After a long pause, he elaborated 'I can see why Amren would like you. You both share the same delightful attitude.'

Kia couldn't help but snort at this. Kia did know Amren, she hadn't lied about that, and whilst Amren had many 'qualities' her charming demeanour was certainly not one of them. They had met several times over the centuries, and had grown privately close in their brief fated meetings. From the first, Amren recognised her for what she was - a 'lost shadow girl' - and Kia saw Amren for what she was, a lost creature bound in flesh and bone. Then there was the matter of the blood debt between them... Kia hoped that if by some ill-luck this situation with the Shadowsinger got back to Amren, she would remember that debt and look on her kindly.

Still, to be compared to one who was quite so formidable... Kia wasn't too proud to say her ego was slightly glowy. Flashing him a grin that was practically feline, as she retorted.

'Careful Spymaster - I might tell her that'.

The corners of his mouth began to crease, and his eyes danced with amusement. 

' Then thank the Gods most of the gates to the Autumn Court are now blocked off'. 

His tone was flat, but the conveyed a sort of softening towards her - as the ground had now shifted towards something more amiable. Goodness, this male was so mercurial. She could barely keep up. This change in the atmosphere between them was nice, though, lighter than it had been before. She could work with this, she could joke and tease him.

'You think that wards and gates would stop Amren? We are talking of the same female, aren't we? Besides... that just means you’re now stuck here with me and my delightful attitude.' Kia retorted, giving the Shadowsinger her sweetest smile.

He chuckled softly at this, crossing his arms lazily over his chest.

'Then perhaps I should win you round, to avoid an ugly death in or out of this city'.

Kia leaned down to haul one of the solider into the bin. Flicking the hair back, she gave him a haughty look.

'That, spymaster, is the most sensible thing you have said all evening'.

\-----

'When you said you wanted to win me round, this is not what I had in mind' Kia sulked.

She began rubbing her legs to try and reinstate some feeling below her waist. There was her thinking the night would improve from murder. 

The Shadowsinger paused his surveying of the windows opposite and turned to her with a quizzical look. 

'Really? What did you have in mind?'

'Oh, I don't know, dinner maybe? A drink? Something that conveyed 'I am sorry for putting a dagger to your throat, and thank you for saving my skin.'

He turned back to studying the rooftops. It seems that they had established an unspoken truce since earlier. Apparently, burying three corpses in a dumpster could now be considered team bonding. Regardless of their differences, though, they were united on this: both of them needed to conceal their scents after what happened in the alley, they needed to wash, change and lay low. They needed to check that both of their accommodations were safe, or up sticks and move to a new location.

Azriel shifted and turned to look over to the buildings to his left. 

'You didn't strike me as the 'dinner' kind of girl. Besides - it's a bit late for that, don't you think?'

Kia shuffled herself around trying to get comfortable. No one told her when she started her training how much time she would spend sitting waiting in the cold. Really, the job was far less glamorous than most people thought. 

'A bit late for what?' she snapped impatiently.

'The whole wine and dine thing. After how we started the night'. The smile on his lip was practically audible. 

Kia blushed at the recollection of how she had pulled the Shadow singer onto her in the alley; the noises that had escaped her mouth when he had kissed her. Gods above. She pushed the thought down and searched her verbal armoury for some witty throwback, coming up frustratingly blank. She bit down on her lip as frustrated anger thrummed beneath her skin. Instead, she silently wrangled her hands into fists in her pockets. 

Not for the first time this evening she found her bottom going numb from sitting on broken tiles, and her neck beginning to ache from watching guards come and go. So far, it seemed that no one had entered the place where the Spymaster had been staying. They had scanned the rooftops for blocks around, but no one appeared to be watching the place. Whatever the spymaster's shadows were telling him, it was beyond what Kia could see.

' What makes you so sure this place will be discovered. There's been nothing in three hours.' 

'Use your own shadows instead of quizzing me.' He retorted.

No, that wasn't an option. Keen that he didn't press this line of questioning any further, Kia sat back on her haunches and averted her gaze. Taking out her dagger she began to clean it. Catching a whiff of herself, Kia recoiled. She really needed a bath, she stank of death and sweat. Not necessarily in that order. 

A scuffle on the street below dragged her attention downwards. From nowhere a band of nine masked soldiers in black and gold armour came coursing down the streets, with snarling wraith hounds in tow. They were heading directly towards The Broken Compass Inne. They had breached the door of the establishment in less than 20 seconds. Kia caught sight of the quivers and bows at their back, instantly recognising the ash arrows. Her stomach churned. They reached the 7th floor in just over a minute; had entered the Shadowsinger's room in less than two. The storming was swift and brutal and came without warning.

Beside her, the Shadowsinger shifted uncomfortably. His shoulders had become heavier and his face had grown pale. He looked weary all of a sudden, like the weight of six centuries of being hunted had crashed into him. Crouched low to the roof, darkness had let itself loose over his chiselled features. His once handsome face and bright hazel eyes - the image of boyish confidence but moments before - now became a fortress of impenetrable stone. 

'Did you leave anything behind worth retrieving?' Kia asked quietly, watching as destruction and shouts emanated from Inne.

Slowly, the Shadowsinger shook his head.

'Do you have anywhere to go tonight?' 

Letting his weight fall backwards, Azriel sat down, his arms resting on his knees. Dropping his head to his forearms, he sighed and shook his head again. She could tell it was hard for him to share this weakness. It was clear he hadn't anticipated so quick a discovery in this place, hadn't prepared for it. At this moment he seemed more reckless, less calculated than he had in her dreams like there was something deeply distressing him. She knew him to be troubled, to be haunted by the ghosts of his past, but not so...out of control.

Perhaps it was his vulnerability at this moment, the way his body screamed of exhaustion and defeat, but either way, Kia found herself saying to the space between them.

'Then tonight, you will stay with me.'

\----

Kia had quickly ruled out the prospect of returning to her own flat on the south side of the city tonight. For one, they needed to go somewhere where they could disappear, preferably somewhere where the wards were strong enough to throw off wraith hounds. Then there was the small matter of finding the Shadowsinger clothes and weapons. 

This left only one option: they had to go to Larak's apartment.

Kia knew what this meant; she would have to start being honest about who she was. It seemed that the time for lying was passed. If she was to survive til dawn, she would have to broach some uncomfortable truths.


	4. The Song in the Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So excited for you all to see my first Az POV. Enjoy! New chapter coming next week...

They hadn't lingered long after the Broken Compass raid, running the rooftops from the city gates over to the West End. The Shadowsinger hadn't spoken since, hadn't asked where they were going, simply followed her and matched her footsteps behind her. She could feel his solid presence at her back, the sound of his breathing shift as they jumped in tandem from roof to roof. 

Gradually the streets became wider and more illuminated, lit by strings of glowing fae lights. The buildings gradually became taller, grander and the smell of mud and fifth was replaced by softer scents of bakeries and restaurants. Where the streets before had been dotted with the homeless, now grand trees in autumn bloom burst through the tarmac and rustled in the breeze. It was only when they reached the rooftop opposite Larak's building complex that they began the careful descent down to the street. There was only one way in and out of this place, and it was through the front door. 

She watched Azriel's face as they had crossed the lobby of the apartment block. She felt the weight of his gaze as it landed on the marble accented alcoves displaying statutes of tree nymphs. Kia saw him take in the painted frescos covering the walls and the gold gilt staircase that they had begun to climb. For the first time, Kia suddenly felt very self-conscious of the pomposity of this place compared with the rest of the city. She had only stayed here a handful of times with Larak over the past five centuries and had never really appreciated it's splendor. Instead, she had only ever seen it for what it was, a gilded cage in which Larak could confine her, a place in which she could be monitored, watched, and contained. 

Kia could already see the questions forming in the Spymaster's mind; she was dreading the moment when this silence would end, and she would have to start explaining. The only way forward from here was to be honest, but after starting with lies she didn’t know how to begin. 

It didn't take them long to reach the penthouse. Once Kia was certain it was empty, she beckoned Azriel in. He took a few steps into the foyer and stopped short. The Shadowsinger turned slowly, taking in the understated elegance of the airy, open-plan rooms before him. The place exuded wealth in its parred back minimalism. The word 'apartment' did not do justice to what this place was and the look on Azriel's face told her as much. She could feel the spymaster turn from apprising the room before him, to focus on her. He took in the moss stains and brick dust that covered her simple cotton shirt and tan fighting leathers, the layer of grime that now covered her after stalking over rooftops for days. She knew she looked awful, out of place in this opulent place. 

Kia could almost feel the weight of the unspoken question between them: how did she fit into this picture?

Kia knew that she would have to face these questions sooner or later, but first, she desperately needed a shower, a pair of clean clothes, and something to eat. Necessities first, she thought, then she would face the Spymaster's questions. 

Gesturing over his shoulder, she explained.

'There's a bedroom and bathroom down the hallway past the study and to the left. You will find clothes in the dresser. The armory to the right. Borrow what you need, for now. Else I know a supplier who can get you whatever weapons you require.'

Azriel looked warily at her, as if trying to settle some lingering doubt in his mind. He still didn't trust her, and it was painfully clear that bringing him here hadn't helped things. Kia shuffled uncomfortably on her feet. Why did it matter so much to her? 

Shifting on his feet, he finally broke the silence between them.

'This place is yours?' 

Kia sighed, shaking her head at her feet in tired frustration. She didn't have time for these games. Azriel knew exactly where they were. He was the Spymaster of the Night Court, for Cauldron's sake, he likely knew the location of every one of the Larak's residences across Prythian and beyond, and probably had a fair number watched by his own spies. He must know she was an assassin in the guild. After the fight in the alley she presumed he had figured that much out - that that was why he had decided to accept her help - and bringing him here must have confirmed this. 

Raising her eyes to meet his, she gave the Spymaster a cold, flat stare.

'You know this apartment doesn't belong to me. You knew from the moment you crossed the foyer. Stop trying to get a read on me and just ask me what you want to know so that I can go for my shower'.

'Fine.' His tone and gaze matched her. It was flat, cold, and even. Two liars circling each other, looking for weakness.

'This is the Penthouse of Larak, Grandmaster of the Sett of Daggers. It’s a private residence, not used for entertaining, else we would be in the East Side of the City. What I can't figure out is why you - an unknown assassin of the guild - would have access to Larak's private residence. Why would he alter the wards for you.'

When it was clear that Kia wasn't going to respond, Azriel sighed and ventured out from the foyer into the open lounge, exploring. Kia followed quietly, trying to think out how to explain her presence here. Turning the fae lights on, the Shadowsinger traced his fingers over the oak mantling, the sleeve of his cloak falling away to reveal a glimmering Siphon. He paused his progress upon locating the glass drinks cabinet. Pulling out two tumblers and a crystal flask of whiskey, he lifted them in Kia's direction in a silent question. Kia nodded and slowly took a seat on the chaise by the coffee table. The Shadowsinger closed the distance between them, placing a glass down before her with an inch of amber liquid inside. 

Azriel slowly eased himself into an armchair across the table from her, stretching his wings out behind him. He raised the tumbler to his lips taking a long drag and watched her intently. His Siphon glinted in the low light, deep indigo with flecks of gold. Tilting his head to one side he let his gaze dart over her person, drinking in the details of her body. Kia shuffled uncomfortably, unsure exactly what those knowing hazel eyes saw at this moment. Distracting herself she cradled her own glass in her hands, wondering where to begin. 

Kia was about to start explaining when the thud of crystal on glass snapped her from contemplation. Placing the glass firmly on the table between them, the Spymaster crossed his arms and leaned towards her.

'Tell me, Layra, what are you to Larak, that you would have unfettered access at all hours of the night to his apartment? That you would be able to come into this place, give out his weapons, his clothes, drink his whiskey to whomever you please, and still survive till dawn?'

The insinuation in his words was unmistakable. Cauldron, no wonder he was looking at her like that, Azriel thought she was bedding Larak. 

The thought made Kia want to wretch, and her stomach began roiling. 

'You think I -? I'm Larak's ward, not his mistress. He took me in when I was 15. When I was young he granted me access to all his apartments whilst I travelled with him for work or formal engagements. I had - have - access to the weapons because he trained me for the guild trials. He never revoked those privileges after I left.' 

Now it was Azriel's turn to look uncomfortable. Shifting in his chair, he burrowed his brow.

'That's...Impossible. I would have known if Larak had a ward.' 

The self-assuredness in the Shadowsinger's voice enraged Kia. Who was he to tell her life was a lie, some fraud, when she was the one who had spent her life in hiding, with her freedoms curtailed, all to protect her from some unspoken danger? Kia had spent years clawing back some independence from Larak, and every freedom she had earned was won in blood, sweat, and bone. It took her rising the ranks of the guild and coming into her power for Larak to begrudgingly relinquish just some of that control back to her. Even now, she knew there were always those watching her. Those faces in the crowd that were there one minute but gone the next. The whispers on the wind that wherever she went, Larak was always there. Kia quelled the rising anger in her chest.

'Well then, it seems there are some secrets that even you are ignorant of Spymaster. Larak worked very hard to keep my existence and the details of his wardship out of the public domain, so that people like you couldn't use it as leverage.' 

'Why bother going to so much effort? He had the whole guild to protect you. Few agents would be reckless enough to interfere with that.'

His foresight was startling, even after everything they had been through today, his mind was still as sharp as a razor blade. In truth, she had been asking herself this question since she realised the extent of Larak's attempts to keep her entire life hidden from the public eye.

'I don't know.' She muttered, bringing the glass to her lips, and drinking deeply, savoring the feeling as the liquid burning its way down her throat.

'Who were you before, Layra, that he would do that?'

This question caught Kia off guard, and her eyes quickly darted to meet his in an attempt to read him better. Her surprise at him asking, was met only by his inquisitive, watchful stare. He was leaning across the table towards her now, pushing her for answers. It occurred to her that this must be what it felt like to be interrogated by the Spymaster, to have your weak spots exposed and your past pillaged for information. In truth, she would have given the answers if she had them, but she didn't.

Kia had spent her whole life looking for the answers to that one question, looking to fill the blanks of her life before that day she woke up on Larak's bed in the Sett of Daggers. There was nothing before that room and that place, no memory at all. Sometimes whispers of the past appeared to her. A flash of claws, fangs tipped with blood, a piercing scream... and then only the shadows remained. How many times had she awoke to the sound of that scream, only to find it was her own voice piercing the dead of night. 

'I don't remember.'

'Who were your parents? Your siblings? Where were you bo-' 

She cut him off when he failed to comprehend what it was she was telling him.

'It's not I don't want to remember - I can't remember'.

There was no pretense in her voice, no bravado, no lies. Crossing her arms across her chest, Kia held herself tight as she forced back the tears that threatened at the edges of her eyes. 

In the corner of her vision, she felt the Shadowsinger shift, processing this. After a moment longer in silence, he cautiously stood and moved round the table to reach her. 

'I didn't mean to. I'm sorry. I am just trying to underst- '

Kia couldn't bare for his pity, and she especially didn't want to be close to him. She just wanted to be alone. Suddenly the full weight of the day crashed into her, and exhaustion hit her hard. 

'I'm trying the best I can to answer you. But I. Just. Don't Know'. Kia gritted these last words out, willing the tears back.

Somewhere at the edge of her vision, she saw him shift back, putting his hands up in defeat.

'Do you want to leave?' she asked uncertainly. 

'No.' 

Somehow, this simple truth eased Kia a little. But she knew he still didn't wholly trust her. Gathering herself she got to her feet and tentatively looked at the Shadowsinger. Concern glittered in his eyes. It took her a second to realise that the concern was for her. She pushed through her discomfort.

'I know you have questions, I do too, but we have both had a really long day. Tomorrow, I promise we can talk tomorrow. Till then, we will be safe here. We will take turns to watch in case. You can even go first.'

When it was clear that Shadowsinger had no plans of breaking their silence, Kia leaned forward and took his hand. To her surprise, he didn't pull it away. 

Tilting Azriel's scarred palm upwards, Kia unbuckled her knife belt from her thigh and placed it in his grip. Closing his fingers around the leather strap she smiled up at him weakly. This was there way of showing trust in the guild: to offer up one's weapons, and their life to another assassin. Kia hoped the vulnerable position she was putting herself in wouldn't be lost on the male standing before her. 

'Consider it a peace offering. Til morning.'

Azriel looked from the belt up to her, and then nodded in agreement 'Til Morning'.

\---------------

It was nearly dawn, the darkest part of the night. Azriel stood quietly in the doorway of the bedroom, listening for noise of movement within. Silence. Entering the blackened room, he sent a flicker of shadows over to the female within. They returned with their bitter hissing, confirming that she lay fast asleep. 

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, to discern the moonlight shining through a gap in the curtain, illuminating her body twisted in the sheets. Azriel carefully rounded the poster bed. Layra shifted in her sleep, turning toward him and curling the covers up around her face, more agitated than moments before. Azriel paused, considering a retreat. She settled again, her face returning to the peaceful ease that had blanketed it moments before. Watching her intently, Azriel leant into the wooden post of the bed and silently loosed the breath he had been holding.

Half an hour. That's how long he had lasted on watch before he had given up and sought her out. He shouldn’t be here, but the shadows had been relentless. Seek her. Seek her. 

There was a cruel irony to it, to spend your whole life being called a Shadowsinger when all his shadows did was hiss, whisper, crackle. There was no melody in the way those venom coated tendrils preened at his ears. There was no sweetness or joy in the lilt of their hollow voices...until her. 

He had never heard anything so achingly beautiful as the song of her shadows. There in that alley they had called out to him, like they knew his very soul. He reeled at how gormless he must have seemed to her, standing and staring whilst she handled the soldiers, one by one. Her shadows had been a siren call in moonlight, there one second and gone the next.... and then just the silence. So bitterly empty without them. It was only now, as she slept, that Azriel could hear them call to him once more, seeking him out through the walls and corridors of the apartment to the place where he had stood on guard. Barely a whisper, but there. He could hear it clearer now, the closer he got to her.

Was this what it felt like to find another Shadowsinger? The feeling was intoxicating, addictive even. He needed to focus, to recenter himself after the raid, and yet here he was seeking her out.

If he was honest with himself, he knew it wasn’t just the shadows that brought him here. There was something else about her that nagged at him, something in her scent and her manner that was familiar somehow. When she looked at him there was a tenderness there that he couldn’t comprehend. He hadn’t realised how much he wanted to be seen until this female looked at him. 

This much he knew: this female could have abandoned him in the alley and she didn’t, she had killed to protect his identity despite wanting to avoid death, and then she had brought him here - to perhaps the only place in Carpathia where Eris' power didn't extend - to keep him safe, despite the pain it clearly inflicted on her. Azriel knew she was holding back, that there were truths she was not yet prepared to tell, but there was a tender honesty in her actions if not her words.

... and then there was that kiss. Azriel allowed himself a moment to remember the way she had tasted, the feel of her body pressed against his....Gods, had it really been that long since he had been with a female? He hadn’t since before Elai- Azriel cursed inwardly and stifled the thought.

No, this wasn’t about Elain, it was about this Shadowsinger. Looking down, Azriel took in the outline form, the curve of her body under the sheet. In sleep, her face was stripped of the harsh severity that she had worn so well in the day; mask lifted, he couldn’t help but notice the eased grace of her features, the soft allure in the swell of her lips. Combined with raven black curls that framed her face, the impact was devastating. 

The memory of his earlier accusation made him inwardly wince. Azriel admitted to himself that he had been secretly relieved to find out this female wasn't Larak's lover. But a ward of Larak, trained for the Guild trials, and hidden from the world for all this time. What kind of life must this female have known, and how long, before Larak's spies alerted him to the Spymasters presence here? 

The Shadowsinger rubbed his face with his hands. He was so tired, he could barely think straight. The last few weeks had been a blur of work, planning, and arguments with his family all building up to this. There had been no reprieve since entering Carpathia. The military presence made his informants wary, and the packs of wriath hounds Eris had positioned on constant patrol were making sleep and rest damned near impossible. He needed to do better, be better if he was going to protect them. Whatever this was here, with this female, was a distraction, he tried to tell himself.

.... And yet, despite being safe for the first time since entering the city, he was by her bedside rather than at his own. Because despite himself - despite his mission here - Azriel wanted to know her. This much was clear. Something in this beautiful, uncompromising, blade of woman, called to him and for once, he wanted to listen. 

There in the dark of that room, before the first light of dawn, Azriel made a resolution. Before he was done in this city, he would know who this creature before him was.

\------


	5. The Deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to give a shoutout to 'CelaenaStardust' for guest writing some of the scenes with Maddox, and for proofing so much of this story. Thank you all for reading!

Kia woke up groggy. She had slept deeply, but it hadn't been restful. Images of the Shadowsinger standing over her bed, watching her in silence, had plagued her like a spectre. Shifting herself up onto her forearms, Kia took in the room around her. Nothing had visibly altered from last night, except that now light was coming in through the break in the curtains and illuminating the room, and far off she could make out the sound of a bell tower kneeling. Kia counted the knells; it was enough to know she had slept in longer than she should've. 

Swinging her legs around, Kia hauled herself upright. Her feet sunk into the velvety carpet and flexed as she stretched upwards like a plains cat, yawning. Kia's muscles screamed at the sudden movement, adjusting. She still ached from the days spent on the road, and despite her shower last night, she still felt grimey. Long journeys and hunts did that, stiffness and dirt seeped into the skin and had to be scoured out. There was no time for that now, though.

Later, perhaps, after she faced the Shadowsingers questions and finished her training session with Maddox, she would allow herself to sink into a large, steamy bath, fragranced with jasmine and neroli; perhaps even soak her wings and work out some of the knots in her shoulders. The thought had Kia smiling with satisfaction.

Trudging into the closet attached to her bedroom, Kia opened the doors and examined their contents. Thankfully, Larak seemed to have kept her wardrobe fully stocked in her absence - dresses and evening gowns on the one side and combat gear on the other. Pulling out a pair of black fighting leathers, a pullover, and a pair of knee-high lace-up boots, she began to undress. Shedding her nightclothes, Kia allowed herself a moment to admire her reflection in the floor-length mirror at the room's end. Damn, she may feel like shit, Kia thought, but she still had it.

Reaching the linen bandages wrapped around her chest, Kia's pleasure in her own appearance faltered. Instinctively, she reached a hand to space over her heart where she had hidden Genesis. She stroked her fingers along the short sheathed blade, feeling its outline beneath. The feel of it there was so habitual, that she had almost stopped feeling the press of the leather against her skin. Its presence was a sudden, devastating reminder of the conversation with the Spymaster last night. The weight of the blade felt heavier today.

Genesis was the only thing she had from the time before Larak, the Sett, and the Guild. It was her most treasured possession. When she had awoken in Larak's house, the maids had tried to prise her fingers off the blade; Kia had been clenching it so hard that she had covered Larak's sheets in blood without noticing. She had refused to let go of it for days, even to let anyone treat the wounds. She still had traces of the scar on her right palm as a result. 

500 years and she still felt the wound deep. Not the one in her hand, but the one in her chest, from that absence of memory. Kia had spent years trying to heal, filling that void with drink, death, relationships, work...yet with her fingers on Genesis, Kia still felt like that lost little shadow girl, screaming and alone in a stranger's bed.

Looking once more in the mirror she wondered from whom she got her amethyst eyes, her ebony hair, her tapered raven wings... 

A clatter from down the hall dragged Kia from this train of thought. The Shadowsinger. 

Releasing her hand from the blade, Kia dressed quickly. Leaving the wardrobe, she made her way to the hall. The unexpected smell of cooked bacon, toast, coffee hit Kia in a wave, causing her stomach to protest its pressing hunger. Following the scent towards the kitchen, Kia was amazed to find the Shadowsinger bent over a frying pan, spatula in hand. Azriel greeted her with a friendly smile, before turning back to the stove.

Kia was stupefied at the surrealness of this picture. To see this male - this creature of shadow and death - standing in her kitchen in Larak's clothes (cooking of all things) was more than her brain could immediately process this early in the morning. 

Comfortable with the easy silence that blanketed the room, Kia moved wordlessly over to the marble breakfast bar and took up a stool as she collected her thoughts. With Azriel's back partially to her, Kia allowed herself to truly look at him. Whilst his shadows still remained, he looked more handsome in the daylight; the soft light of morning revealed the understated grace of his features, the upward curve of his cheekbones. Some of the darkness had lifted from the night before and he looked marginally more relaxed, his wings had uncoiled from his spine and hung with slackened ease. 

Tilting his head marginally towards her, Azriel broke the silence.

'I thought I would make us breakfast'. 

When Kia remained quiet at his back he shrugged casually, understanding her confusion.

'To say thank you', he clarified 'for yesterday'. 

Azriel extinguished the flame on the hob and began dividing the contents of the pan between two plates. Bringing them over, he set one down in front of her, and made a space for himself opposite the bar from her. Two mugs that smelt of the bitter aroma of coffee and a jug of cream sat between them. Positioning himself on a stool, Azriel smiled weakly at her before turning his attention to his food. Kia stared at the meal before her in puzzlement. 

When the words to portray her confusion arrived, they were not what hoped for. 

'Where did the food come from?' Kia stuttered.

She cursed her stupidity the moment the words left her mouth.

'I went to the market just after dawn. Don't worry, I wasn't followed.'

Of course, where else did one get food from? Idiot, Kia. 

Examining the plate before her, Kia picked up a slice of toast and began eating it cautiously. She was not used to him being so ...smiley or accommodating. She couldn't figure out if this was another tactic in his questioning, designed to throw her off guard, or if he was genuinely just trying to be nice.

Kia was so rapt in her own thoughts that she hadn't noticed the Shadowsinger watching her. He must have read the skepticism on her face, her unease. Azriel shifted uncomfortably. He swallowed a mouthful and put down his knife and fork. He started to say something, but stopped short, moving his hands to place them on the marble worktop. She had never seen the Shadowsinger look so visibly anxious. 

Suddenly rising from his chair, he moved to reach something on the worktop behind him. Turning, he placed Kia's weapons belt down before her with a thud; the cutlery on the table gangling against her plate at the sudden jolt of movement. 

They both stared at it a moment in silence before Azriel sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. 'It doesn't come easy to me...To trust people. I would like to start over Layra'.

He seemed in earnest, sincere. There was no hint of malice in his voice, and even his shadows were alarmingly quiet - restrained even. Kia looked at him thoughtfully. She wanted to get to know him despite herself, and for Azriel to be apologizing like this and offering a fresh start ... It was more than she dared hope. If there was ever a time to be honest, to undo some of the damage she might have inflicted yesterday, it was now. She might never get this chance again. 

Mustering her courage, she whispered 'My name's not Layra. It's Kia'.

Azriel's expression was impenetrable, solid as stone. For a moment, Kia wondered if she had indeed spoken the words. Silence fell once again in the room, this time tense and uneasy, and Kia longed for some pit to open in the ground and swallow her up. She stared intently at her food, all traces of her appetite evaporating.

'Kia...' Azriel said slowly, nodding, as if testing the word. 'Ok, Kia. I would like to start over'.

Surprise rippled through her. Kia broke from staring at her food to look at him, giving a rare, genuine smile. She must have looked like an absolute fool, grinning from ear to ear like that. Almost as if the Shadowsinger could read her thoughts, he gave her a reassuring look in return and returned to eating his breakfast. 

Easing a little, Kia picked up the toast she had discarded and began taking tentative bites. Azriel picked up his mug of coffee and took a mouthful. 

'What did you have in mind?' she asked.

'You offered your help yesterday'. 

Swallowing a mouthful of toast, she cocked an eyebrow. 

'And you flat out refused me.' Kia pointedly reminded him. The Shadowsinger visibly winced in recollection.

'Yes... and I was wrong. I misjudged you, and dismissed you out of hand.'

Taking a sip of her own coffee, she hummed appreciatively. It was strong, dark, and sweet, just the way she liked it. Leaning back, she considered his words.

Yesterday, she had offered him her help, but a lot had changed since then. 

For starters, back then, she had been trapped with a knife to her throat and had needed to save her neck. After the soldiers, the raid, and the move to Larak's place, the balance between them had undeniably shifted. Whatever his mission here was, the wraith hounds and his willingness to accept her help indicidated it was far more dangerous than she first expected. Kia wanted to keep Azriel around, yes, but she also didn't want to endanger herself for a cause that didn't matter to her - especially when helping could endanger those she cared for. If this partnership was going to work, then it needed to go both ways.

'What if my terms have changed since then?' she questioned carefully.

Returning his mug to the counter, Azriel crossed his arms lightly and considered this.

'Then we negotiate.' 

Kia nodded in approval, thinking this over. Clearing her throat she began.

'I don't know the full details of what your business is here, but I do know that the situation in Carpathia and the rest of the Autumn Court is tense right now. Something is brewing. All the borders are being shut and the strongest wards put in place to block out people like you. Whatever comes next, Eris doesn't want the eyes of Prythian on him.' Kia paused to take another mouthful of coffee, considering her next words carefully.

'Here's the deal. I give you access to my network in the Guild in Carpathia and beyond. Resources, informants, safe houses, armouries - the whole underground system we have developed. We will need to find a loophole to explain your presence in view of the guild code, but it should be workable.' She paused to let him take this in.

'And in return?' Azriel countered.

'I ask two things. One, once you leave this place and return to your Night Court, you will not speak of what I have shown you. You will not share your memories of the networks or of the people. The Guild is the only family I have. They are a bloodthirsty, fucked up bunch, but they are my bloody thirsty fucked up bunch. So hear me when I say: I will kill for them. You are not the only one to understand what it is to carry the weight of other people's well being on your shoulders.'

The Shadowsinger fixed her with a heavy, knowing stare, his shadows coiling in weighted understanding. Kia could have sworn one of the Siphons on his hand had turned darker at her words, and she wondered if her words had forced him to consider his own family - and how very far away he was from them. After a moment, Azriel nodded slowly, quieting the whirling darkness a moment later. He gestured his hand for Kia to continue. 

'Two. About last night. What you said about my past -' 

Azriel shifted, quick to interject with hands up in appeasement 'I shouldn't have handled it that way, it wasn't the time for those questions'.

Kia raised her own hands, cutting him off. 

'But you were right. You asked me who I was before all of this' Kia gestured to the weapons belt before her, the fighting leathers she wore, 'I have spent my whole life trying to answer that, and at every stage, Larak has resisted me. It makes no sense, the efforts he took - he still takes - to hide a supposedly 'bastard born' girl from the world. If I help you, you give me your word that you will do whatever you can to help me find an answer to why - you use your network, your skill, appeal to whoever might help'. 

Her proposal done, Kia sat back allowing the Shadowsinger time to think on her words. Finishing his breakfast, he set aside the plate and leaned in towards her.

'I accept your terms, on one condition. The work we do here requires honesty and trust - it seems that doesn't come naturally either of us - but if we go forward, that's non-negotiable.'

For the first time in a long while, Kia felt something blossoming within her: hope. A faint spark of promise that one day, she might find the answers to the questions she sought. It was more than she dared to think, to dream. Kia smiled, relieved.

'Well, then, Spymaster, it looks like we have ourselves a deal'. 

The Shadowsinger eased a little, his hazel eyes softening. Shifting, he held out his hand to shake hers. 

'Azriel.' He corrected with renewed warmth, smiling tentatively. It was uncharacteristic, but the shift in him was welcome, and Kia couldn't help but note how aching beautiful he looked like this. It was enough to make her forget for a moment his outstretched hand, hovering in the space between them.

'Ok, Azriel. But in the Guild, we strike our deals in blood.'

Kia slipped her hand beneath her sweater and deftly removed Genesis from its place in the wrapping. The surprise on the Shadowsinger face was only visible by a nearly imperceptible tilt of his head, as he watched this unexplained, furtive movement. Kia removed her hand and revealed the small blade in her palm.

Unsheathing Genesis, she drew the blade across her right palm, creating a parallel wound to her scar. Blood springing from the fresh-cut, she extended it to him. 

'In blood we swear, in shadow, we act' she uttered.

Comprehending, Azriel drew Truthteller from his thigh and in turn, sliced his own hand. He did not so much as wince at the cut, or as the blood slid down his wrist and onto the white countertop. Taking Kia's hand, he answered her oath with his own:

'In blood we swear, in shadow, we act'.

\-------

Kia and Azriel spent what was left of the morning planning out their next steps. Despite the protection offered to them by staying in Larak's apartment, they agreed it would not do well to linger there much longer.

Kia explained their present predicament to the studious Shadowsinger. It was forbidden in the code for outsiders to enter into Guild buildings longer than a day, except in very specific circumstances. Likely, the network of informants had already logged the Shadowsinger's arrival late last night, so they had a short window to gather what they required, return the items they had borrowed from Larak, and move to Kia's apartment across town. In the meantime, Kia would have to figure out a way to justify his continued presence. Despite what outsiders assumed, the assassin's guild was a stickler for rules and regulations. If the Shadowsinger was going to enter into the inner sanctum of Guild society she had to find a loophole to allow it, and Kia knew just who to ask... 

With the midday sun already hitting its peak in the sky, they left the apartment and split up to complete their respective tasks. Azriel would go to the Textile Quarter of the city and buy the clothing supplies they needed for a longer stay in Carpathia, before returning the items he borrowed from Laraks' by messenger. 

Kia would carry out checks on her apartment to ensure they hadn't had any unwanted visitors in the night. She would also send word to her Sett and weapon's keeper - Maddox - that she would be over later that day and need access to the Vaults. She advised her friend to clear the Sett of initiates and wrap up guild business ahead of her arrival, on account of needing the privacy.

They agreed to meet at the crossroads between the old walled city and the newer shopping district just before dusk. When they came back together, the streets were already busy with masked revelers preparing for the main festivities of Halloween. Amongst the bright colors, garish face paint, wings, and horns, Azriel and Kia stood out for their comparative plainess. The throngs of people darting across the city, though, provided a welcome cover from anyone who might have been watching their movements. Kia and Azriel wove silently in and out of the crowds like threads on a loom, impossible to track amongst the stream of movement. 

Gradually, the gravel of the mainstreets had given over to smooth sandstone cobbles; towering grey storefronts gave way to squat wood and white plaster buildings that jostled against each other for space, leaning forwards into the street at peculiar angles. Finding their way deeper into the Ancient Quarter, the pair finally realigned on the narrow walkways between buildings and fell into step beside one another. They walked on in silence like that for some time, taking in the way the last of the late afternoon sun broke between the buildings and gilted everything in a rich golden glow. It was Azriel who eventually spoke.

'This Maddox... you think she will be able to find a way to allow me into the Guild?'

'I am hoping so. If anyone would know it's her. She has a knack for learning the rules in order to bend them.' Kia smiled fondly in recollection.

'And she will be willing to help us?' 

Kia began chewing the inside of her cheek. Now wasn't that the question? Kia had gone over the impending conversation with Maddox countless times in her head since this morning. Only half ended with Maddox agreeing to help. A significant proportion had involved one, or both of them, being impaled on the sharp end of a broadsword. Kia chose to believe the odds were in her favor...

' She is my oldest friend, and the keeper of my Sett in Carpathia. She may not like it, but she will help.'

This response didn't seem to soothe the Shadowsinger much, and he cast a nervous glance over to Kia as he sidestepped a pair of children that had come barreling towards them both. Rejoining her, he asked carefully: 'What's a Sett?'

Kia stopped in the street and stared dumbfounded at the male beside her.

'Your kidding, right? You're a Spymaster and you don't know what a set is? How can you not know that'.

Azriel scoffed, the line of his mouth hitting a severe line. It looked wounded for a moment before a cold obsidian wall fell back into place across his feature. 'It was never required. We don't interfere with the Guild; the Guild leaves us be. It works best that way.'

Kia sighed exasperated, rolling her eyes. 

'Til now...' she corrected.

'Til now... So tell me. What do I need to know?'

Kia couldn't help but snort. Where to begin, she thought.

'The Guild of Assassin's is not some lawless den of butchery and thievery as people like to think. It has its own systems and procedures, laid out in the Guild Code ... most of which is very dry and boring so please don't ask me to explain it all. I tend to defer to my lawyers or Maddox on that.

You can't just simply 'join' or enter the Guild. Anyone who wants to enter has to train as an initiate in a Sett. Initiates study the code, train in the skills of the work, and hone their craft under the eyes of more experienced Assassins, employed by the Sett Masters. 

Every fifty years, all existing Guild Members and the best of the initiates are put forward to the Guild Trials. The top seven performers at the trials become - the rather originally titled - 'The Seven'... the rest are then ranked and their services battered for by 'The Seven' to staff their Setts and complete jobs. Only the Seven are allowed to keep Setts, but how they run them and train their initiates is up to them - so long as they keep to the code. Larak only steps in as Guildmaster in the case of disputes and distributing jobs'.

'It sounds awfully...bureaucratic.' Was Azriel's only response. Kia chuckled.

'You sound disappointed' she teased, softly elbowing him in the ribs. It won her a terse look. Turning the street end, the Bookshop came into view. Kia continued hastily trying to surmise quickly before their arrival.

'What matters right now is this: you are not a Guild Member, Initiate, or a Client, which makes you entering my Sett as an outsider problematic. You can't simply walk in, it's against the code. So, we are here to talk to Maddox, in the hope she might be able to provide us with a loophole to avoid bringing the whole Guild down upon our head. All of which means, Shadowsinger, we have a lovely long afternoon ahead of us discussing the finer points of the Guild Code'.

'Azriel' he corrected, before muttering something sarcastic beneath his breath.

Reaching the door of the shop front, Kia paused. Past this point, there was no going back. Should Maddox turn on her now, she wouldn't stand a chance. 

'This will certainly be an education for us both' she said aloud, more to herself than anyone, before pushing the heavy oak door open.

Kia was greeted by that distinct smell of leather, dusty paper, and ink; the sweet, earthy scent caressed her nostrils as she breathed it in deeply. Filling her field of view was tall oak bookshelves filled with volumes bound in various different shades of crimson, ebony, and tan. The last flickers of daylight streamed in through the shop window, illuminating flecks of dust floating through the air. There's a certain stillness and calm one finds in a Bookshop, it's quiet revere hangs with so much promise. It was almost holy, Kia thought.

The stillness was abruptly interrupted by a sudden movement in Kia's periphery. A small blond-haired boy, no taller than Kia's knee, dived from his perch atop a mahogany book cabinet and ran straight towards her.

'Kia, Kia, Kia!' he squealed with joy.

Kia closed the distance between them and hauled the boy up into her arms. Pulling back to look at him, she smiled warmly. He was all runny nose, rumpled hair and boundless joy in her grasp, squeezing Kia tight with short plump arms. 

'Hello Squirt! Where's your Aunty?' 

'I'm back here,' a voice called from further back in the shop. 

Kia gave the boy a quick squeeze and set him back on the floor. He immediately ran to the back of the shop and Kia followed, swerving past stacks of books. 

Maddox was sitting with her feet up on a large mahogany desk looking over a letter, one hand playing with the braid of long blonde hair falling over her shoulder. 

'I didn't expect you back here til Friday, have you finished the job already?'

'Please,' Kia gave her a lazy grin, 'I finished that last night'.

Discarding the letter, she glanced up at Kia who had come to a stop in the doorway of her office. Maddox's emerald green eyes, made all the more striking by the dark brown kohl lining them, fixed on her. Rising to her feet, Maddox rounded the desk and approached Kia, enveloping her in a tight hug. 

Maddox chuckled approvingly, 'Well, then, we will have to find a way to enjoy the free time'.

Drawing back, she finally caught sight of the Shadowsinger. Any softness in her demeanor evaporated as she took in the sight of his whirling shadows and inky black wings.

'Yavre' she called to the boy, 'why don't you go down below and see if you can help Eliza with dinner?' Obediently, the little boy nodded and ran out of the office and off to the stairs. When the boy was out of earshot, Maddox turned back to Kia.

'You've got some balls, Kia, to bring that male here.'

'I need your help, Maddie.'

Maddox stared fiercely at the Shadowsinger, a deep line in her brow. 

'We will all need help if he stays much longer.' she snarled, baring her teeth at him.

Besides her, Kia could feel Azriel shift. He had adjusted his feet in a more defensive position, could see him assessing the female before him for weaknesses. Maddox had clocked the movement, ever the observant assassin, and moved her hand to hover over the danger.

This was going well. A wicked thought in the back of Kia's mind whispered to her: one step closer to impaling. She squashed it down. 

'Just hear me out, please,' Kia pleaded, trying to diffuse the tense atmosphere that now filled the bookshop. She was speaking to them both but fixed her gaze on her friend.

Whirling on Kia, Maddox hissed, 'do you have any idea what Larak would do if he found out the Night Court's Spymaster was under my roof? Why is he here, Kia?' 

Kia reached out to take Maddox's arm to reassure her, and in a not-so-subtle attempt to put distance between her Sett master and her weapon.

'He's helping me find answers to what happened to my memory' she explained hastily, 'he swore a blood oath, Mad. I am using my contacts to gather intel on Eris, and in return, he will try and figure out who I am... I haven't broken the code. I swear. He's been with me less than 24 hours, we haven't technically entered the Sett, we are just on the threshold. Please, Maddox, you know I would never endanger you or Yavre.' 

She squeezed Maddox's arm and gave her a cautious smile, trying to take Maddox's focus away from the Illyrian Warrior at her back. Maddox studied the Shadowsinger again, lips pursed and a look of distrust in her eyes. A heartbeat later, and she loosened a little beneath Kia's grip.

'What do you need?' She offered tersely.

'Weapons. A place to train, to work out of. But right now? We need your knowledge of Guild Code. We need to find a way to justify his presence here with me after the 24 hours are up.'

'How long before the time runs out?'

Kia looked up to the timepiece behind Maddox's desk, calculating the hours since they entered Larak's complex.

'5, maybe 6 hours'.

Maddox sighed, exasperated. 'Well then you better come in, it seems we have lots to discuss'. 

\-----

Maddox closed a weighty volume of _The History of Guild Disputes Vol XIV_ brusquely, scattering dust into the air. Sighing, she discarded it onto the desk amongst the other books and looked up at the ceiling. Pushing her chair back, she rubbed her eyes with her palms. The sun had since sunk in the sky, and Maddox had pulled a jumper over the linen shirt and leather pants against the chill of the evening. It had been hours and still no substantial breakthrough.

'It's no use, Kia.'

From her position crouched by the dwindling fire, Kia rose and approached the desk, adding her book to the pile of rejects. Maddox fixed Kia with a flat stare and surmised the sorry state of affairs. 

'He can't claim asylum as an initiate without renouncing his alliance to his court. Even if he became a client and contracted a job, his access to the Setts would be limited; not to mention that any interference from him in the reconnaissance work would be taken as evidence of the ruse. That leaves only one option and you're not going to like it'. 

Brow arched, Maddox slid her eyes to where Azriel sat in a chair in the corner of the office, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. There was a slight glint in her eye, now, communicating some wicked intent that Kia couldn't place. The Shadowsinger didn't balk, simply bristled at the assassin's focus. Turning back to Kia, she drawled.

'Oh don't play coy, Kia. You know exactly what I am suggesting.... Claim him as your lover, get him to take the oath of honor whilst he is bound to you, and he can be admitted to the Sett. 

As one of the Seven, it is within your rights - Lord knows enough of our 'brothers' have done so over the years. Then any resources you gave him would be under the guise of serving your interests. No guild member could question it, refute his presence not without breaking the code themselves.'

Kia gritted her teeth and cursed inwardly. She had surmised as much herself when she laid in bed last night, staring up at the canopy and thinking through the reams of code regulations. Despite herself, Kia had been holding out for the hope that Maddox would be able to present a different set of options than the ones that now lay before her.

'No - I won't claim him like some possession, Maddox. It's not right...There has to be another way.'

'Well, unless Bat-boy over here wants to renounce all his worldly possessions and discard those Illyrian leathers for an initiate smock, you don't have another choice. He has to be seen to bed you or swear fealty to you. There is no other way'. 

Maddox's eyes darted to the Shadowsinger and back to Kia, her expression softening a degree 'you don't have to follow through, just present the image to the world you want them to see. The bond only applies for as long as you claim him.'

A movement from the corner brought both the female's attention to the Shadowsinger. Sidling up to the desk, Azriel fixed Kia with an unreadable look. 

'It's ok. I'll do it.' 

Kia's mouth fell open in horror and surprise. He seemed genuine, but she couldn't help feeling like this was some sick joke, that she hadn't earned the trust he was now giving her. KIa felt that she had to explain the implications of what he was about to do.

'You don't know what you're saying. If I take you as... I can try to ensure my Setts show you respect. But beyond that, the Guild Members would look down on you, treat you like dirt. They would still see you an outsider, and worse still, one who had slept his way into the Guild. No one deserves that. Not to mention that shackle it would place around both our wrists. I don't want you to feel trapped- '.

Kia caught herself. Had she said too much, shared too much of what she knew of him? The slight alarm in his eyes was there one moment, gone the next, replaced by something firmer.

'I will have dealt with worse' his words were cold, matter of fact. He paused, turning his attention to Maddox, 'just tell me what I need to do'.

'You need to put your right hand to each other's heart and repeat after me. You first Shadowsinger... In light I follow, in dark I serve...together are bound'. 

Apprehensive, Azriel hesitantly lifted his hand to the underside of Kia breast, hoovering it in the space above it. He paused, Kia realised, because he was waiting for her approval. She nodded slightly, and Azriel smoothed his scarred fingers round her top to rest over her heart. If the Shadowsinger felt the outline of Genesis below, his expression said nothing. Instead, Azriel carefully encircled his fingers around Kia's wrist and lifted it to his own chest. Flexing her hand over his shirt, she felt the solid beat of his heart and the warmth of his skin underneath beneath. The intimacy of this position, heart to heart, had heat rising to Kia's cheeks. She could barely hold Azriel gaze and the unspoken emotion that swam in those hazel depths as he whispered hoarsely: 

'In light I follow, in dark I serve. Together are bound.'

A silver strand of light suddenly flickered between them. The iridescent thread unfurled slowly, reaching out toward Kia and Azriel. They watched with bated breath as the floating tendrils began wrapping around their wrists, in large bright loops. Kia thought that for a moment, their hearts raced in tandem at the sight.

'You now, Kia'. 

Looking deep into his eyes, Kia whispered: 'Are you sure?'. 

He nodded. Kia drew in a shaky breath and uttered the words: 'In light I follow, in dark I serve, together are bound'. 

With a snap, the knot tightened into place, causing a sudden jolt of pain to leap through Kia's arm. The shock of the sensation, of the sudden tug towards the Shadowsinger had her falling. Azriel caught her waist, but not before Kia's body had crashed into his. She tried to rebalance herself, the physical proximity between them distracting her momentarily from the pain and confusion. When she met his gaze, Azriel's eyes were wide with alarm, concern, and something darker and more intense. 

Refocusing, her attention snapped to her wrist. Lifting it between them Kia saw the glittering cord connecting them wrist to wrist, heart to heart.

Behind them Maddox scoffed, pronouncing sarcastically.

'Well, this is going to be fun.' 

  
  



	6. Promises and Threats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild Smut Warning!

Kia hadn't said a word since they left Maddox's shop; not on the walk back, not when they reached her apartment. She had simply invited Azriel in, showed him around, and then locked herself away in the en-suite bathroom.

Her quiet carried a searing intensity tonight. It weighted the air around her, enveloping her. But it was more than that, Azriel thought, Kia's silence was not something she draped over herself like a cloak, it was its own living, breathing thing. Azriel knew what it was to exist in such a cocoon of quiet. Few stood comfortably in the face of such a wall of wordlessness. Most people didn't know how to share space with it; they tripped over themselves to fill the void with throngs of chatter, endless streams of words spewing from their mouths. But Azriel knew and understood. The words would come when she was ready, and not before that.

Left alone in the flat, Azriel had wandered the small network of rooms aimlessly, assessing the space. It couldn't have been more different than where they had stayed last night. The attic rooms here were vastly smaller, more understated. There was no pomp or grandeur, no wall paintings or sculptures. Just a simple, one bedroom apartment, with clean lines and sparse furniture.

Azriel couldn't help but notice that although the space was not cold, as such, it certainly lacked something. Traveling from room to room, he noted the lack of personal items, distinguishing marks that identified this place as a home. In truth, it could have belonged to anyone. With a sudden sting of recognition, he pondered how many places he had left in his wake just like this. Apartments, houses, rooms that had never really been his own, spaces he abandoned at a moment's notice without a trace. His presence in so many places was like a sudden, gentle breeze of night air rippling through a room: there one moment, gone the next, leaving nothing but a chill in his absence. He wondered if it was the same for her if she spent her days living like a ghost-made flesh. At least he had a home back in Velaris, he had thought, but where was hers? Certainly not at Larak's place; not here.

Without realizing where he was headed, Azriel had reached the threshold to the bedroom. The calming scent of jasmine, lavender, and something citrus-y rolled in waves through the room to him from the shut bathroom door. Setting down on the bed, he rubbed his temples and let himself feel his weariness a moment. He hadn't slept well, the little sleep he had got had been troubled, filled with images of a skinny, pale girl - more bone than flesh - running through a darkened forest. The snow had been falling as her shadowy form hurtled away from him into the thicket, the sound of branches snapping. He had chased after her, his Siphons illuminating the way through the dark, but she had simply disappeared like smoke before him, leaving bloodied tracks in her wake.

Settling back against the headboard, Azriel eye snagged on the thread around his wrist. He lifted it closer to his face to examine it, turning it this way and that, catching the light. Azriel followed the line of the cord to the bathroom door, where it disappeared within. It was taut, and he could feel the gentle tug that drew him forwards toward the vanishing point in the oak. Curious, he thought. Azriel had seen how the Lover's Binds operated but never seen the thread before or entered into one himself. They were supposedly invisible but to the bonded, for whom it acted as a permanent tether.

The decision to accept it had been a pragmatic choice, Azriel told himself, nothing to do with his attraction to the raven-haired female. As soon as he had reached the tailors yesterday, he had taken the opportunity to use a changing room to examine his body in the full-length mirror. He could find no new tattoo upon his skin. That meant that however the blood oath worked, it did not function as a traditional Fae bargain. He didn't know enough of the Guild Code to know what it meant to break a blood oath.

Azriel cursed inwardly that he hadn't taken the time to look into the Guild further. That was his fault, he had grown used to the informal alliance that had sprung up between his network and theirs - brokered by Larak and Rhys centuries ago. So long as the Guild hadn’t aimed too high, undertaken jobs that threatened to destabilise the integrity of the Night Court or its closest allies, the truce held and Azriel didn't interfere. He had grown complacent, or perhaps with the war with Hybern had simply focused his attention elsewhere. But if he was truly going to go into the lion's den, to the heart of the Guild, then he would need to learn, and fast. Who better than from Larak's own ward and a member of the 'Seven'.

... So when Maddox had suggested the Lover's Bind, Azriel had seen an opportunity to get closer to the assassin girl. He knew enough of the Cord, of how it functioned, to know that it might enable him to sense Kia, feel her, connect to her in a way that might give him an advantage. He trusted Kia, -valued the vulnerability she had shown him today, the risks she had taken already - but he knew better than to take risks with his own life, not when his family depended on him. Had she not said as much herself? 'They may be a ruthless fucked up bunch, but there my ruthless fucked up bunch'. The things he would do for his own family didn't bear thinking about.

Azriel remembered the reluctance in Kia's face to accept the bond. Was that because she feared what he might learn from the Cord? He remembered the ferocity of her words as she proclaimed that she didn't want to 'claim' another being, her anxiety to outline the risk it posed to him. No, he thought, she had been reluctant to force me into a bargain that might trap me or expose him to ridicule. She had been concerned for him, although he couldn't fathom what he had done to deserve such thoughtfulness.

The memory of Kia - all quiet, burning, intensity as she stood before him, hand pressed against his racing heart, looking up into eyes - flickered to life in his mind. _In dark I serve_. He remembered the way she had said those words, looking up at him through her lashes with those penetrating amethyst eyes, a timidity creeping into her expression as she stumbled over that last word. No hint of the ruthless assassin he had known the night before. Her words had sent a shiver of promise down his spine, igniting something dark and raging that Azriel had to fight hard to stifle. The Shadowsinger could have sworn she had seen it, and mirrored his hunger in her own expression.

He let his mind wander indulgently. _In dark I serve_. What would it be like to have that pretty little mouth serving him. On him.

The sound of sloshing water brought Azriel back to the room. Shaking off the fog of his roving thoughts, he steadied himself. _Pragmatic_ , it was pragmatic, he repeated harshly in his mind.

Azriel hadn't realised til now that the band around his wrist had heated. Lifting his wrist once more, he examined the cord more closely. In the dim light of the room, it almost seemed to pulse an eddy of silver light. Lifting his other hand toward it he gently stroked the length of it, feeling it respond to his touch with a faint glow. _Curious._ Azriel continued to brush the cord with faint touches, fascinated by the way light crackled against the pads of his fingers in response.

\----

 _Her mouth, on him?_ The words had clanged down the cord, clear and unmistakable. Had he said them aloud, or just thought it?

Kia couldn't breathe. It was too hot in here, stifling. Fumbling with the taps, she tried to release a stream of icy water into the tub, something to quell the rising heat in her core.

Nothing else came through the cord for the moment and Kia relaxed briefly. Had the Shadowsinger been _fantasising_ about her? A ripple of satisfaction thrummed through her, tugging at the corners of her mouth in a feline grin. Kia couldn't deny her own attraction to Azriel; maybe it was something about the way he had looked at her that morning over breakfast, of the ferocious look in his eyes as her bound himself to her. The thought had warmth pooling between her thighs...

Suddenly another searing ghost touch began to tilt at her chin. She felt the heat of it as slowly stroked down the length of Kia's throat, across her collarbone and down between her breasts. Kia's fingers slipped on the tap. Back arching into the sensation, Kia's wings splayed and shuddered as water spilled over the edges of the tub onto the floor. She braced her hands against the side of the bath, trying to control the pleasure now rippling through her body. Her knuckles paled, clenching, as she tried helplessly to steady her breathing. Around her wrist, the cord hummed, hot and tight.

The cruel, invisible hands brushed against her skin once more and begun a slow, aching journey towards her navel. Everything below Kia's waist tightened, clenching in anticipation.

Just above the surface of the water, they stilled, then vanished...

\---

 _Interesting_ , Azriel thought, as he pulled back his hand to survey the cord once more. The bond reacted to his touch, it was more than simply a tether. His brows furrowed. He could feel the pull towards Kia, somewhere in the room beyond, which seemed more intense than moments before. He rose from the bed and tried to move further away, backing towards the window. The bond seemed to go taught and strain, as if resisting the movement. _Could it be extended_ , he mused, _lengthened and retracted?_ Putting his thumb and forefinger to the cord, he pinched it and gave it a swift tug.

A clamor in the bathroom drew his attention forward. He heard the fracturing of glass against marble, the splash of water ... and then the melody of soft shadows careening out from under the bathroom door towards him. Azriel released the cord, closed the distance between him and the room, and wrapped his knuckles against the door.

'Kia?' He enquired, his voice inflected with concern. There was no answer, but he could hear her movement within, and feel the rooving shadows seeping out beneath the door. Azriel noted a hiss under her breath, the shift of body in water, and the sound of Kia's ragged breathing. A piece of glass skittered over the tiles, and Kia cursed outwardly.

Moments later, the door was wrenched open. Kia emerged, her eyes burning with a silent rage, and something darker. Towel wrapped tightly around her body, she stood shaking a moment, fixing him with her piercing gaze. Her hair was soaked through and hung in tendrils to her gleaming golden skin. Water dripped from her onto the floor, leaving small pools at her feet. A flush covered her exposed chest and the length of her throat; a rosy hue pigmenting her cheeks. She took a determined step into the bedroom, and Azriel couldn't help but gawk at the sight before him.

Behind her, two obsidian black wings of swirling shadow and feathers had crested. Quivering slightly as they extended out in perfect arches before him, rising and falling with the weight of Kia's laboured breathing. Shadows coiled from the base of her neck, round the soft edges of her face; they reached out towards him, purring. She had _wings_.

In that moment, Azriel felt his stony mask of composure crack. He thought his legs might buckle at the sight of this creature before him, all shadow, desire and icy rage. She was the most beautiful thing Azriel had ever seen and Cauldron be damned, he wanted her. 

Kia stalked him now, the towel moving to reveal flashes of her bare thighs. He retreated - one, two, three steps - til he felt the backs of his leg hit the underside of the bed. Azriel froze, refusing to give up any more ground. He forced himself to stand straighter, to steel his expressions, as he tried desperately to silence his racing thoughts into order.

Kia came up dangerously close to him, her body nearly flush against his. He could smell her now, not just the fragranced oils that coated her skin, but the scent of her heady arousal. It took everything within him to not let his eyes roll back in his head. Azriel clenched his fists as if bracing himself for what came next. If Kia leaned even an inch closer, he thought, she would feel his aching length at her belly. Then there would be no denying want he wanted.

Kia placed her left hand firmly on his chest, and with a swift kick to the back of his knees, pushed him into the bed. Azriel let himself fall but didn't break her gaze.

Pinning him with those keen amethyst eyes, Kia raised her right hand towards her face purposefully making him watch.

'Never forget, Shadowsinger' she purred, a wicked glint in her expression, '... this cord works both ways'.

Azriel couldn't look away, not as she parted her lips - that pretty little mouth - and slowly dragged her tongue slowly and deliberately along a length of the Lover's cord. _Mother above._ It sent a jolt of pleasure run from the cord straight to his core. His fingers bunched in the sheets, a sound leaving his throat that he didn't quite recognize as his own. It was strangled, guttural. He felt his length strain against the ties of his trousers, craving friction, her touch. Kia dragged her eyes down his body, lingering at his waistline. She smiled then, a pure sly, knowing grin. It made him feel exposed.

He made to reach for her but Kia was too quick, turning on her heel, and marched back to the bathroom. She leaned over her shoulder towards him,

'Oh and Azriel?' Amusement danced in her expression.

'This pretty little mouth serves _no one_ '.

His eyes widened in understanding, but before he could attempt to speak, Kia had slammed the door forcefully behind her letting it rattle on its hinges.

Azriel wracked a hand down his face, trying to calm the icy desire within him. He wanted to rip that door from its ruddy hinges. As it slowly subsided and cold anger began to take hold of him. Why had he just stood there, gawking like he had never known a woman? _Pragmatic?_ He thought, shaking his head in disbelief at his own lack of self-awareness.

Fool, Az, you utter fool.

 _What's got you so rattled_? A familiar raspy voice drawled in his head _._

Awareness suddenly crashed into him. Azriel scrambled from the bed, turning to grab a timepiece from the bedside. It read 10 hours. The check-in with Rhys he had scheduled yesterday morning, he must have lost track of time.

 _Do you have more important matters to be attending to brother?_ Rhys muttered with a chuckle.

'No... Give me a minute,' he said in his mind.

Azriel crossed the room and opened the balcony doors. He slunk out silently, replacing the latch as gently as he could. Eyeing the metal staircase to the rooftop, he shifted quickly and began to climb. The autumn breeze ruffled his hair as he reached the top. He found a small walkway through the gables, which he followed towards a flat terrace. Azriel sent shadows out in every direction, assessing the space for unwanted visitors. Content he was alone, he crouched low behind a chimney stack.

'Rhys?'

_I'm here. How did things go with the guards in the fifth?_

'It was a dead-end, there no way in there for now. I am pursuing a new strategy, but I need you to look into something.'

_Just tell me what you need, brother._

'The Assassins Guildmaster, Larak Devraka.'

_...Why do I get the feeling I am I not going to like where this going Az._

'He took in a ward, a shadowsinger, were you aware?'

The connection lay silent for a moment before Rhys responded.

_I was not. If he did, he kept it very quiet. When did this happen?_

'Over five centuries ago'.

Rhys took a sharp inhale of breath.

_That's not possible. We would have known or heard some hint. How did we miss this?_

'I don't know. But is seems Larak kept her existence a closely guarded secret. I can't give you more details now but proceed with caution, Rhys. Whatever enquiries you make can't go through the usual channels and they can't be traced back to us. We can't have Eris catching wind of the fact that there is highly trained Shadowsinger for hire under his very nose.'

Rhys sighed into Azriel's mind.

_Like to make my life difficult don't you Az? One day you will bring me good news._

'Never a dull day, brother'.

He could feel more than hear his brother's smile, but there was a hesitation in it.

'What is it?' Azriel questioned, shadows swirling at his feet.

_\- It's Elaine._ Rhys paused. _She left yesterday with Lucien. We expect word of her arrival shortly..._

Azriel fell silent, a pit forming in his stomach. A familiar ache in his chest emerged, followed by a rising wave of frustration and anger.

_I don't like how things ended between us Az._

'Don't, it doesn't matter.'

Before Rhys could answer, Azriel raised himself to his feet and muttered down the link.

'I'll check in with you later this week.'

He forced the connection shut, willing a wall of stone into place around his mind. The connection broken, his brother's presence drifted away. Azriel cursed to the wind. He let a wave of icy rage overtake him, and whirling, he slammed his left fist into the nearby chimney stack. It crumpled with impact, and he staggered back clutching his hand in pain. It felt good. He needed the hurt, the frustration. He needed to feel something.

\------

It took Azriel a couple of hours to settle his mind. It was late, and although his shadows still swirled frantically about his shoulders, exhaustion pulled him back towards the attic. When he climbed back in through the balcony doors to the bedroom, Azriel was surprised not to see Kia asleep in bed. He noted the absence of pillows on one side.

A single faelight on the nightstand shrouded the room in a faint warm glow. It illuminated a folded piece of paper leaned up against a tumbler of water and a cloth-covered bowl. Lifting the fabric, he found a bowl of steaming beef stew. His favorite. Azriel picked up the paper and unfolded it, revealing a note in a graceful hand.

_Take the bed, you need the rest. We leave for training at 6 tomorrow. I hope you’re ready, Shadowsinger, I have waited several centuries to play with an Illyrian and I won't be going easy on you..._

The words were as much as a promise as a threat. Despite himself, Azriel could feel the edges of his mouth tugging upwards; he couldn't deny that the prospect of entering a ring with this shadow girl was exhilarating. The way she had moved in that alley was its own form of art and one that years of training had taught him to appreciate.

Looking down at the stew, the empty bed, though, he couldn't help but feel the coldness that had clawed at his heart moments before thaw a little. Had she known how tired he was, is that why she had done this? His mind was drawn back to the knife belt she had given him the night before. This wasn’t the first time Kia had given him what he needed, if not what he wanted. Her words were teasing, but her actions had been nothing but considerate. Azriel shifted uncomfortably on his feet, certain that he had done nothing to deserve this thoughtfulness.

Following the light at his wrist and the distant sound of Kia's breathing, Azriel traipsed through the flat to where he found Kia asleep, curled up in the armchair at an angle. She seemed wholly oblivious to his presence, peaceful even, but her body hung awkwardly in the cramped space of the chair. Her wings were gone now, disappeared somewhere at her back, but her shoulder hunched forward. Azriel had meant to offer to sleep on the floor, but he had been so distracted that he hadn't had the chance.

Leaning over, Azriel lifted Kia up into his arms in a smooth solid motion. He couldn’t help but notice she was more solid than he had expected, all muscle despite her small, slender frame. He could feel the warmth of her body against him and her scent careening softly into him. Kia stirred slightly, her hands wandering to his chest and her head gently nestled into the crook of his neck. The intimacy of her touch drew the slenderest of smiles to his face; Azriel had almost forgotten how it felt to have someone cradled in his arms like this. Trying not to rouse her, he retraced his steps back to the bedroom. Holding her steady with one arm, Azriel drew back the sheets and lowered her down gently onto the bed. Pulling the covers up over her sleeping form, he leaned in and whispered softly,

'Sleep well, Kia.'

He brushed his fingers gently against her cheek before standing and leaving, ready for a night spent on the floor.


	7. The Match

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kia faces Azriel in the sparring ring of the Assassin's Guild, plans take shape to bring track down Eris, and Kia and Azriel share a heated moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your comments, everyone, it really motivates me to keep writing.

A whisper had gone around the rooms and passageways of the Sett that the Spymaster of Night Court was sparring against one of the Seven. Down the tunnels Guild Members had come running, spilling out onto the viewing platform and jostling for eyes on the fight in the pit down below. A small crowd of initiates from the Fifth Street Sett had paused their matches on the edges of the training ground and now gathered aghast watching Kia face off against Azriel. The crowd waited with bated breath. The score was at 3-2, in Kia's favor.

Kia swiftly dodged as Azriel swung at her, quickly sidestepping his forward lunge. She watched him turn sharply on her, righting himself with effortless grace. Tossing her broadsword quickly from palm to palm, she felt the weight of the blade in her hands. It still glinted under bright lights of the pit but its sheen was muted now, its surface shrouded in the red dust of the sparring ring. 

Despite her narrow lead, she could feel Azriel growing more certain in his attacks - hitting where it hurt. His moves were confident, calculated, and methodical; with every lunge and parry, every dart of the blade, Kia knew he was learning the language of her movements, sussing out weak points. The Shadowsinger's unrelenting patience was wearing her down and his face gave nothing away.

Assassin's weren't trained to be soldiers on the field of battle, she mused, their skills lay in stealth, agility, cunning. Azriel, on the other hand, was the opposite: a solid body of rippling muscle, enduring attack after attack with ease. They had been going at this for hours, and he showed no sign of exhaustion. He huffed out ragged breaths but his arms didn't quake at the weight of his sword, his legs didn't so much as falter as he inched forward, winning ground on her. Kia's legs felt like lead, and subconsciously she had begun to let him lead this fight, setting the pace, determining the moves of play. 

All the battles and all the fights Kia had witnessed as his shadow, nothing compared to facing Azriel in the flesh. He had crafted his body into a weapon of will, and now, that will was set on her. Kia knew that the doubt that had crept under her skin needed to be exorcised if she was going to win. Yet, she found herself fixating on aches and pains, afraid her body would betray its own weakness to his shadows. For the briefest moment she considered losing her own darkness, using their song to locate his vulnerabilities, but she pushed this idea back. She could do this without them. She  _ would _ do this without them.

Kia inched back putting distance between them, keeping her eyes fixed on Azriel as they began to circle each other, sizing each other up for another attack. He had long since discarded his shirt beside the ring, and Kia couldn't help but marvel at the way the sweat rolled down his chiseled torso; the way his trousers hung, accentuating the perfect v at his hips. The sight certainly wasn't helping her focus, he looked every inch the breathtaking warrior. The heat pooling at the apex of her thighs had the cord tightening, pulling her body precariously towards him. She had learnt this last night, their mutual attraction made the cord go taught, dragging them closer.

_ You are not a warrior, Kia, stop acting like one,  _ Larak's voice careened in her head. With these words, the beginnings of a plan began to take shape in Kia's mind. Maybe she wasn't a warrior, but she had forged her body and mind into a weapon. Stretching her neck side to side and smiled, Kia forced her features into wicked arrogance. Though still circling, she slowed her pace, rolling her hips with each purposeful step. It was time to change the rules of the game... 

Kia removed the scabbard from her back and sheathed her sword. Turning quickly, she tossed it to Maddox on her perch atop the metal staircase. Kia had just enough time to make out her answering hiss as Maddox moved quickly to grab the blade before Kia whipped her head back to Azriel. A murmur went up in the rafters above them.

Azriel's face stayed fixed, but down the cord, she felt a ripple of energy.  _ Uncertainty _ . Good, Kia thought. She was sure to mark his movements more closely now. Lazily, she began to remove her black quilted jacket, discarding it to the blood-red dust. The heat of the training room and the relentless pace of their fights had Kia's cotton shirt clinging against the curves of her body. Lifting her fingers to her waist, she untucked the edges before pulling it up and over her head in one swift movement. It drifted to the floor, her whole upper body naked save for the strips of red linen bound around her breasts.

The sight of a shirtless woman was not uncommon in the training rings of the Sett. They were all just bodies in these halls, united with one purpose in mind: the art of death. Few things quashed personal embarrassment quite like the imminent threat of a whirling ax at one's head. But for the Shadowsinger, all restrained passion and icy rage... the effect was instantaneous. She noted the slight way Azriel swallowed; the bob of his throat rising and falling. He blinked once, twice, taking her in. She felt it now, that rising heat and heightened tension radiating out through the cord, this time from his end. 

It was now or never. In a burst of movement, Kia sprinted across the center of the ring hurtling towards the Shadowsinger. With no weapon in her hands, she watched as he faltered, uncertain whether to raise his sword in attack. His hesitation gave her enough time to close the distance between them; she was crouching and then leaping upwards, the momentum sending her vaulting over the top of his head. She heard a thud of his sword hitting the dust as Kia felt her feet make contact with the wall behind her. She bent her legs and launched herself backward, flying through the air as she latched both hands around the now taught cord. A collective gasp echoed around the room as somewhere beneath her, Azriel's feet faltered and stuttered, dragged forward and up by the strength of the cord's pull. 

In a second their bodies made contact with the ground. Kia had been ready for the impact, though, tucking her legs and rolling through it. Azriel, on the other hand, had not. In a second, she was on him. Forcing her body weight down into his, she pulled Genesis from its sheath and pressed it to his throat. Azriel's face was a picture of surprise. Underneath him, his wings shuddered at the imposition of the extra weight. For a moment he lay beneath her speechless, his shadows frozen about his neck and his mouth ajar as he panted out rough uneven breaths. The expression was so alien on his face that she couldn't help grinning at him, smug satisfaction thrumming in her veins. 

She let her fingers re-adjust on the hilt of the dagger, before leaning in closer towards him and whispering 'And that,  _ Lover _ , is how we do things in the Guild'.

Kia drew back to survey his expression. There was a wicked flicker in his eyes now and the faintest glimmer of a smile; he suddenly let out a low, rough laugh and then leaned in closer, daring Kia to press the blade more firmly into his throat. Slowly, he lifted a hand from his side and brought it cautiously to the back of her head. She hesitated. In a swift movement, he loosened the hairpin at her nape, and a tangle of dark curls fell down about her face.

‘Beautiful’ he whispered darkly, with something like reverence in his voice. Kia swallowed at the tone, the shift in energy between them. All spectators forgotten, she stared helplessly as he tucked a loose curl behind her ear and traced his fingers down the curve of her face. He leaned in towards her then. Kia wavered, the edge of Genesis still hovering above his throat. She felt the brush of his lips against hers, then it was ripped away. 

In a sudden jolt, Kia watched in horror as Azriel tugged the cord, pulling Kia’s body down into his. Strong arms encircled her waist as he flung her over into the dirt, pinning her beneath the pressing weight of his body. Something pressed against her neck...with a sickening awareness, Kia realized that Truth Teller was once more at her throat. She writhed uncomfortably, trying to get a foothold to push him off. Azriel held her tight, though, his grip a wall of solid stone. She could feel his breath caress her ear as he lifted the blade from her throat and leaned in to whisper.

‘Never forget. Shadowsinger, this cord works both ways'. 

The words were like a kick to the gut. He had thrown her own jibe back at her. It ignited a flame of mortification in Kia’s chest, a red mist descending over her vision. Without any strategy, rhyme, or reason, Kia began kicking and shoving against Azriel's chest with all her might. He didn’t move an inch. Instead, she could practically feel his smile as he leaned closer and planted a kiss at her temple. A dark voice threatened,

‘Lovers, remember Kia. Play nice’. 

‘Even lovers fight, Azriel,’ she snarled back, lunging forward and biting at his ear. 

Withdrawing sharply, he pulled his hand to his ear examining it for blood. Looking back to her, his eyes momentarily threatened violence. She stared him down, refusing to cower to that raging predator within him. He blinked and it was gone, replaced with fiendish amusement. Slowly, withdrew his body from hers and stood. 

Azriel held out a hand to her: a peace offering. Still smarting from being out-witted, Kia ignored it, hurling herself to her feet and brushing past him, angling towards the metal staircase that led out of the pit. The crowd of assembled initiates and Guild members at the fringes divided to let her through. A warning glower had them scattering off into small training groups. Above her, she could hear the crowd begin to disperse, today's entertainment over. Kia began the climb out of the arena, her legs screaming with the exertion. The pooling of shadows at her back told her the Spymaster was not far behind. Increasing her pace, she climbed the stairs two at a time. She caught up to where Maddox was perched, sat back on her elbow, picking at her nails with a dagger. 

'You know from up here it was very hard to tell if you two were fighting or fucking.' Maddox quipped, climbing to her feet and making to follow Kia.

'To you Maddox, I imagine it all looks the same' Kia creened, looking back at her with a sickly sweet smile. Maddox raised her eyebrows in amusement and jogged to fall into step with her.

'Ooph. Harsh. Don't take it out on me because you got bested by an Illyrian with a rather impressive dagger'. Kia scoffed. She could have sworn she felt a ripple of masculine pride pass down the cord. If  _ only _ it was his impressive dagger that was the problem. 

'If I didn't know better', Maddox continued, looping her arms through Kia's, 'I'd say your first night in bonded bliss was less than satisfying'. 

Reaching the viewing platform at the top of the first flight of stairs, Kia chanced a look behind her to where the Shadowsinger had begun the ascent. Their eyes locked momentarily as he made his way past the throngs of Initiates, but Kia turned hastily away trying to shake off all thoughts of last night. Whatever she had expected when she accepted the cord, this intense thing between wasn't it. But had the cord just shed light on their obvious attraction to each other, revealing what they both dared not admit? 

Later, she would think about that later. She had other matters to attend to now. Kia quickened her pace. Maddox remained mercifully quiet now and they began to climb the second spiraling staircase up to The Hive - a glass-walled series of offices where Kia conducted formal Sett business. 

Reaching the top of the second set of stairs, she marched through the corridors to her office. A glass wall to her right gave a clear view out over the Fifth Street Sett Forum, and directly overlooked the main sparring rings below. Kia rounded the large desk at it's center where several maps of Carpathia were laid out and grabbed a pitcher of water from a side desk. Maddox waited by the door, ready to signal to the Shadowsinger. Pouring herself a glass, Kia briefly scanned the documents set out beside her and drank deeply. With a flicker of her powers, she removed the film of sweat and dust that coated her skin, and replaced her soiled shirt and leathers with a simple fitted black top and trousers, embroidered with silver gilt. Pulling her hair back into a high ponytail, Azriel joined them in the office. 

'Shut the door', Kia stated, pinning the last of her hair back. Willing the tempest in her head to stillness, she considered the mammoth task before her of locating each of Eris's battalions, infiltrating their ranks, and gathering information on targets. Whatever her spirling, confused feelings towards the Shadowsinger, she had made a deal. Thankfully, the Shadowsinger had at least replaced his shirt, so she wasn't going to be distracted by  _ those _ muscles.

'Maddox, why don't you bring us up to speed' Kia instructed, nodding to the mess of paper before them. Maddox stepped forward, clearing her voice.

‘As of last night we have members of the homeless network trying to locate each of the army units stationed around the city,' Maddox pointed to a map of the sprawling walls, towers and quarters of Carpathia, 'from the Southgate all the way up to the palace, and beyond to the Cathedral'. Gesturing to the large map of the Autumn Court, she continued, 'per your request, I dispatched Tyler and Hermas this morning to the northern and southern borders. They will make contact with our informants in the main towns that flank the border. We should know more in a day or two.’

'What did you tell them about the purpose behind their mission?' Kia queried.

‘Very little - that we needed to understand the situation at the borderlines, routes in and out of the territory, military presences that might disrupt business, areas to avoid in future jobs etc. I kept it vague, just standard survey work.’

‘Good,’ it was better they didn't know too much, Kia thought, not yet, 'anything on those wraith hounds?'

'It's not clear yet where their kennels are, I have our best aerialists and spiders on the hunt though.'

‘Any news on the whereabouts of Eris?’ Azriel interjected, considering the maps laid out before him.

‘Nothing yet. I would suspect if he’s not in the city he’ll be very near it. Given everything that’s been happening, I don't see him being far from the epicenter', Maddox paused here, throwing Kia a cautious glance, 'there is, of course, one way to find that information out more quickly though. Where Eris goes, his brothers usually follow....’

Kia inclined an eyebrow in question. Thrumming her fingers against the table, Maddox announced casually, 

‘I hear Vivienne is in Carpathia. She was spotted in the Serpentine Club two nights back.’ 

Vivienne was here in Carpathia. She suddenly felt sick to the pit of her stomach. 

Kia hadn't seen her since their fight at the Assassins Guild's Annual Huntress Ball, three years ago. It was the night Larak had delighted in revealing to Kia her lover's explicit involvement in Rortie's death, right before marching her to the center of the ballroom to lead the first dance. As soon as it was over, Kia had run - gown held up around her knees - out of the house and through the gardens in a fit of murderous rage, tears streaming down her face and shadows blackening the landscape. She could still remember Vivienne running after her screaming and pawing at her, begging for her forgiveness. If Kia focused hard enough, she could still hear the sickening sound of her gasping sobs, the high pitch whine in which she had cried her name to the night. 

But there would be no forgiveness, not for what she had done.

'Vivienne, as in Dolus Vanserra's mistress?' Azriel questioned. Maddox nodded slightly, but her eyes were fixed on Kia still. She took a tentative step towards her,

‘You could always pay her a friendly visit. I’m sure with a little...’ Maddox looked deliberately thoughtful, trying to find the right word ‘... _ encouragement _ , she would be willing to offer some information on the whereabouts of the High Lord’. 

Maddox leaned forward and gathered a few documents together, letting her words sink in, before pulling back to survey Kia's expression.

‘We threaten violence?’ Azriel asked, looking up from the desk with a steely expression. Maddox made a dismissive gesture with her hand.

‘Tsk, trust an Illyrian to come up with that strategy.'

‘Said the assassin’, the Shadowsinger retorted under his breath. 

Maddox's lips curled back over her teeth and bared her canines at him, 'Careful, boy.'.

Kia rolled her eyes and sighed exasperatedly. She could feel her patience waning, the unexpected addition of Vivienne to the plan had her edgy and unsettled. 'Stop goading him, Maddox.'

‘Fine’ Maddox pronounced, turning her back to the Shadowsinger and putting her hands on her hips. She cocked her head to one side and gave Kia a cold state. ‘Violence is certainly one option. But I for one can think of an easier, more effective means of persuasion for Vivienne.'

Azriel looked to Kia with a puzzled expression. Kia made herself stand up straighter and face him. She didn’t know why revealing the details of her relationship with Vivienne made her feel so uncomfortable. 

'Before the Vancerra boy, Vivienne and I had a relationship, of sorts. I think Maddox is implying I use that to get a meeting and use her - fondness - for me to get information.

There was an unreadable expression on his face as he weighed up her words.

‘Of sorts?’ Azriel challenged.

‘- They were fuck buddies’ Maddox interjected coldly. Kia threw an annoyed glance over at her friend. Maddox just shrugged dismissively. Subtlety was wasted on this woman. Kia cleared her throat.

‘It was more than that for Vivienne. So once she thought I had abandoned her for another Guild Member - a dear friend - she sought out the Vancerra boy and fed him a story that he was involved in a plot to murder Eris. His body was dumped at the Bookshop a day later'. 

Kia winced in recollection at the image of her friend's bloodied, lifeless body sprawled outside the bookshop; his once joyous eyes now glassy and distant, fixed on a feather grey sky. Her heart contracted, remembering the pained expression frozen to his features.

A burst of warmth shot down the cord towards her and she felt the faintest of ghost touches at the small of her back. Kia's eyes darted toward Azriel who stood firm across from her. She saw the faintest glimmer of sympathy cross his face before it returned to neutrality. Taking a deep breath she turned back to Maddox.

'...But that was several years ago, and I have no reason to suspect she still harbors feelings for me, or would even give me the time of day.’

Maddox shifted on her feet and began tugging at the edge of her jumper - a sure sign she was uncomfortable. All traces of the formidable, riptide of a female evaporated, and she looked smaller now and more uncertain of herself.

‘Oh, but I do’ Maddox muttered to her feet. Slowly she made her way to the bureau in the corner of the room. Drawing a key from her pocket, she unlocked it and produced a small box. Maddox turned back to Kia and gave her a wary look. She hesitated a moment, before sliding it across the table to Kia. 

‘You said you didn’t want contact with her after the incident at the Ball, so I have been collecting these and putting them to one side. In case you ever changed your mind.’

Kia couldn’t hide the confusion from her features as she lifted the lid and began sorting through the box. It was packed with letters. Pulling a few out she examined the Postmarks. They dated back over the last few years, from locations across Prythian. 

‘They arrive every few months, usually when you are doing jobs in Carpathia. One arrived yesterday morning. She must know you're here. It seems she hasn’t forgotten your time together.’

Involuntarily Kia felt a flicker of her unease pass down the cord, and Azriel shifted slightly. She sharply replaced the lid of the box, trying to bite back the anger rising in her chest. 

‘And I haven’t forgotten either, I haven't forgotten what those bastard's did to Rortie.’ Kia snarled under her breath.

‘Good’. The ferocity in Maddox’s voice drew Kia's eyes up; her friend had a pained, intense look about her that told her she too had not forgotten that day they had to wash the blood from Rortie's body. ‘Then use that. Get revenge for your own.’

Maddox must have known what it would mean for Kia to approach Vivienne, the kind of self-control it would take to walk away from that meeting with hands free of blood. Looking at her friend's face now, Kia realized Maddox's expression was not one of dismissiveness, but pure, unadulterated bloodlust. Maddox had seen an opportunity for revenge, a way to repay Vivienne for the pain she had caused, and it was up to Kia to decide what to do with it. Kia's eyes narrowed in on her friend. Maybe it was time to balance the books with Vivienne. 

'Did you read them?' Kia questioned flatly, signaling to the letters. 

Maddox shook her head quickly, 'No, I swear.' 

Kia slid the box back across the desk, 'Then start. I want to know exactly what information we can gleam from them. What I can use.' 

There was silence a moment before Azriel stepped forward, moving directly beside Kia.

‘I need a moment alone with Kia, Maddox.’

Maddox shifted, sighed, and then marched out of the room, taking the box with her. 

'I'll get started on these' she murmured to Kia as she reached the doorway, before pulling it shut. The sound of her feet pounding the iron staircase slowly became more distant, giving way to a stilled hush in the room. 

A moment later, Azriel tugged gently at Kia's elbow turning her to face him. The heat of his palm seeped through her cotton shirt. Azriel's expression was gentler now, more considerate - not the cold stoney gaze that had graced his features before. The tenderness of his touch caught her off guard. 

‘We can try and find another way if you're not ready to go down this path.’ 

Kia's frustration eased a little at the softness in his words. She found herself shaking her head, ‘It could take days, weeks, and even with the resources we have, we can’t cover all the territory we would need to.’ 

‘Still. I won’t force you into this if you don’t want to.’ Looking at him now, she knew he spoke true. He wouldn't push this any further if she wasn't ready. It was a comforting thought, that he cared enough to offer her a path away from this road if she needed it. 

Kia considered this briefly but brushed the idea away ‘I don’t like it, but, I swore you an oath I would do all I can to help, and I mean to keep it. If that means playing this game with Vivienne, then I’ll do it. Besides, it's about time someone held the Vanserra brothers accountable’. 

Despite her hatred for Vivienne, for her betrayal, she still felt a pang of shame. Daggers were easier to wield than hearts. Could she really play the role of regretful ex - seductress even - to such a woman? 

Even as she asked this question, she knew she would. That Kia would do many things in order to ensure no one had to suffer a death like Rortie's again.

Azriel took his fingers to Kia's chin and tilted it up to face him. His eyes were warm, like molten chocolate, rich and comforting; there was no judgment in them, just understanding. A tuft of his mouse-brown hair flopped over his left eye, and Kia considered leaning forward and brushing her fingers through it. 

‘Then we go together.’ His voice was firm, but reassuring.

Kia relished the tenderness in this simple statement. After so long waiting, wanting him, she was determined to remember every smile, every touch, every word in her direction. He had changed since that day in Larak's apartment, that calm, contained facade slipping slightly when he drew her closer. She could see now, that behind the confident, contained mask there was a deadly ferocity to the person within; his soul was a raging furnace, hidden from view and she wanted to bask in its heat. These glimpses of him made Kia's heart leap in her chest, sparking something within her Kia couldn't quite place.  _ Belonging _ , she thought,  _ he makes me feel like I belong.  _

Despite all she had seen of him, of his life, she never imagined how good touching him would feel, the way his breath on her skin would feel like pure ecstasy. Their chemistry was undeniable, but even still, Kia had never felt so decentred; these last few days had been like she was in a constant state of free fall, and she was still waiting for that moment her wings would catch in the air and save her from careening towards the earth. 

‘It’s too dangerous, what if someone recognizes you. She's a Vanserra mistress. I won’t risk your safety.’ Kia responded breathlessly. 

‘And I won’t risk yours. I’m coming, no debate. We face it together.’ He insisted, his voice more forceful now. 

She found herself nodding in agreement, even as her mind raced with the implications. If Azriel showed up, would Vivienne skitter away, unwilling to offer vital information? For the plan that was taking shape in her mind, she didn't plan on having a third body.

... this thought was soon replaced by another, though, of all the times Kia and Vivienne had brought strangers back to their bed. Maybe Azriel was the distraction she needed, a way to focus Vivienne's attention off of Kia and her anger as she plied her for information. Kia bit her lip, trying not to picture the three of them together. The thought of Azriel bedding another woman as she looked on; even better, the thought of him watching  _ her _ . Between them, the cord had started to heat and Azriel shifted closer, his face now inches from her. A wicked glint alighted in his eyes, a roguish smile across his lips. She could barely form rational thoughts, let alone words when he looked at her like that. 

'Penny for your thoughts?' he questioned, tracing his thumb along her lower lip, releasing it from her teeth. His touch sent shivers down her spine, and her cheeks reddened. The air between them was electric, alive with unspoken promise. Kia cleared her throat.

'What if it takes seducing her...Vivienne?' Kia asked, her breath hitching as she caught Azriel's scent.

'So what of it does?' he challenged, running his thumb over her chin, and slowly down her neck. Kia's skin felt like it was ablaze.

'I'm just trying to understand how you are picturing working with me on this. How  _ together _ , is together....' 

Azriel turned his head to one side and regarded her with searing intensity. 

'....As together as you want us to be, Kia.' 

His voice was low and hoarse. Suddenly, Kia realized they weren't talking about Vivienne anymore. His words were a breathless offer of something more, something deeper between them... an acknowledgment of this unspoken thing that lay between them, that burned hot and bright. 

Kia raised a tentative hand to the hard muscles of his chest and stepped in closer. He was taller than her, and she had to tilt her neck back to stare into his face. 

'And what if I want ...everything?' 

Kia could have sworn Azriel stopped breathing for a moment. And then everything happened all at once.

In a heartbeat, strong arms had encircled Kia's waist and lifted her onto her toes, pulling their bodies flush together. Then Azriel's lips were on hers. His kiss was pressing, urgent, hungry. Kia had barely time to think before her body was responding, gripping his broad shoulders and opening her mouth to him. Azriel's hand snaked up her back and found its way to her ponytail. Inclining her head to one side, he briefly tore his lips from her and placed a string of burning kisses along the column of her neck. Letting out an appreciatory growl at the taste of her Azriel shifted his hips flush to hers, and Kia felt the full length of his arousal pressing into her. It released something dark and raging inside Kia. She pulled Azriel's mouth back towards hers, angling her head to kiss him more deeply. A flick of his tongue on her bottom lip had Kia opening her mouth to him. Azriel moaned low as his tongue explored her mouth, threading his fingers through her hair. The reverberations had goosebumps pricking on Kia's skin. Slowly, she slid a hand down the muscled chest towards his belt buckle... 

A sudden knock at the door had them jumping apart. Their breaths were ragged and uneven. Kia had been so rapt up in Azriel's arms that she hadn't noticed anyone approaching; hadn't considered that they had stood in a glass-walled office that overlooked the entire set. Anyone could have been watching them. Azriel dropped his hands reluctantly from Kia's body, but his eyes still raged with crackling lust. Kia stepped back, tugged at the hem of her shirt, and tried to rein in her scent. 

Collecting herself, she called out:

'Come in'.

\------  
  



	8. The Demons Who Walk Among Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support everyone, we are really getting into the thick of it now. Just a friendly warning that this Chapter does include a discussion of themes surrounding sexual harassment - if this is a sensitive issue for you, maybe skip this Chapter. Smut warning also. 
> 
> Thanks again to the lovely CelaenaStardust for her valiant efforts as my editor, working on the Maddox and Nyfan scenes especially.

A knock at the door had them jumping apart. Their breaths ragged and uneven. Kia had been so rapt up in Azriel's arms that she hadn't noticed anyone approaching; hadn't considered that they had stood in a glass-walled office that overlooked the entire Sett. Anyone could have been watching them. Azriel dropped his reluctant hands from Kia's body, his eyes still raged with crackling lust. Kia stepped back, tugged at the hem of her shirt and tried to rein in her scent. Collecting herself, she called out for whoever it was to enter.

'Come in.'

Kia's eyes darted to Azriel, racking a hand down his face as he tried to compose himself. He may have forced his feature into neutrality, but his eyes burned with unspoken promise.  _ Later _ , they seemed to say.

Seconds passed and the door to the office slowly opened. In strode Nyfan suited in the navy garb of the Guild elite, his blonde hair braided tightly back at the sides of his head. The harsh light of the room caught the whites of the scar that ran from his brow to his ear, the ghostly flesh puckering as the male frowned. 

Nyfan was marginally shorter than Azriel although just as well built, but this was where the similarities between the two males ended. Whilst the deathly quiet of Azriel unyielding presence screamed his predatory dominance, Nyfan swaggered with an air of superiority that commanded attention - that insufferable wry smirk near constantly on his lips. He was handsome, Kia supposed, in a rugged way, but he had a smile that never quite reached his eyes, and made him impossible to gauge.  _ He would smile at you like that as he slit your throat _ , Kia thought with a shiver. 

Nyfan's nostrils flared slightly as he approached, and he barely hid the disgust from his expression as he looked knowingly from Azriel to Kia. Doubtless he could smell the intermingling of their scents on each other. 

'Maddox said you wanted to see me.' Nyfan muttered flatly, his jaw now set in a grim line. 

'Nyfan... come in. I - I wanted to wrack your brains about Guild Member allocations to active jobs in Carpathia. I wondered if we might free up some agents.' 

Kia's voice was breathy, and she tried to centre herself. She forced herself to look properly at Nyfan now, into his face. She couldn't help but look for traces of the teenager she had once known, the one whose eyes danced the first time he tried a strawberry or who laughed from his belly at dirty jokes. She searched for the faintest hint of that boy - just barely a man - she had found half dead of hunger and sickness in the slums of Carpathia begging for coin. She had nearly walked away then, but his hand had clutched at her ankle and it made her think twice. He had been too light on her shoulder as she had lifted him from the frosted ground and carried him back to the Sett. Maddox had said nothing when she opened the door to them both, only beckoned them in, filled a basin with warm water and left hurriedly to fetch a medic. The two of them had taken shifts sitting with him that first night, mopping his brow and marking each shakely breath that left his skeletal body. 

Despite the medics warnings, Nyfan got stronger by the day, defying all expectations of a recovery. It turned out he had rather a head for numbers, and Kia saw to it that Nyfan received an apprenticeship with the best accountants in the Sett. He proved a quick learner, and in a couple of years he had grown stronger, smarter, and advanced through the ranks on the business side of the Fifth Street Sett. 

When the time came, Kia had found a position for him in the city, the aide to a wealthy cloth merchant - a legitimate job away from the horror of the impending Guild Trials, and the brutality of what faced him there as an initiate. But he had turned it down, and turned down every offer that came his way, insisting he remain in the Sett and trained like other initiates. They had fought loudly - Kia, Maddox and Nyfan - blazing rows that ended with slammed doors and angry tears... but eventually, when it was clear Nyfan would enter the Guild Trials regardless of what they said, Kia had relented and trained him herself. 

Ever one for beating the odds, Nyfan had excelled in the brutality of the Trial Ring, beating fully-fledged Guild Members from the highest ranks. When the time came for his indenture to be battered, though, Larak had outbid Kia. Even if she had sold everything she owned, everything she had built, it wouldn't have been enough to win his contract. Kia remembered with a stab of pain the Larak's cruel smile as he had slipped an arm around Nyfan's shoulder and led him away to his own Sett. The Guildmaster had used Nyfan's life as an axe to hold over Kia's head for the next fifty years; a way to bring her to heel if necessary. 

Kia made sure she didn't make the same mistake twice. At the next Trials, Kia made sure she retained her position in the Seven and won Nyfan's contract....but the male who returned to her was not the young man she had once known. Now he had cold, joyless eyes and ruthless, suave manner, on top of an already deadly skill in the ring. It was like Larak had stripped back all the warmth, all the kindness, and left only a husk of a man behind. A creature driven by a dogged ambition, quick-witted and intelligent but with the propensity for taking no prisoners - and if the rumours bore truth - a ravenous sexual appetite. The truth was, Kia barely recognised Nyfan at all now. 

Suddenly conscious of the silence that had descended in the room, and the way Azriel regarded her, Kia shifted on her feet. She realised they were waiting on her.

'Oh, my apologies, I should make introductions. Azriel, this is Nyfan, my Head of Business Relations for the Fifth Street Sett.' 

Azriel merely inclined an eyebrow in response. 'Business Relations,' the Shadowsinger repeated, his voice even, 'how incredibly b-'

'If you say bureaucratic', Kia interjected lightly, 'I will throw you and Nyfan in a ring together and show you just how bureaucratic he is'. 

The corner of Azriel's mouth tilted upwards fractionally in amusement as he regarded Kia, it eased something in Kia's chest. She continued, 'Nyfan is one of the best knife wielders we have, I'm sure he would give even  _ you _ a run for your money'. 

Crossing her arms across her chest, Kia tried to give Nyfan a small smile. Nyfan creened slightly at the praise. Like a snake shedding skin, the unease rolled off of him and that deadly arrogance she had come to know as characteristic of him, slipped right back into place. A glint of something salacious sparked in his eyes as he winked in Kia's direction.

'I had a good trainer'. Nyfan words were a raspy drawl, and his gaze dragged over Kia's body in a way that made her squirm. 

'The best', she retorted meekly, jabbing at his ribs with an elbow. She meant it to be relaxed, friendly, but it felt awkward, forced. 

Nyfan barked a laugh, 'Whatever you say  _ Boss _ '. His tone was teasing, but the put-down stung a little. Azriel shifted, moving to Kia's side.

'I have seen first hand what she can do with a knife' he interjected 'you're certainly  _ lucky _ to have had such an instructor'. The sincerity of his praise and the kindness of his defence had the blood rising in Kia's cheeks. Azriel gave her a quick dip of the head in acknowledgement, and she returned it with the meekest of smiles. The smallest of thanks, before turning her attention back to the male that stood carefully watching their exchange. 

'Nyfan... this is Azriel, he's my...' Kia's words trailed off... What exactly was Azriel to her? Kia struggled to find the word. To her relief, Azriel stepped forward and extended a hand.

'I'm her partner' he muttered cooly.  _ Not entirely false _ . They were partners of a sort in this deal of theirs. Kia didn't fail to miss the way Nyfan's expression darkened. He ignored the outstretched hand and regarded the Shadowsinger icily now. 

'Is that so' he countered, lifting an eyebrow. 

Azriel's lowered his hand and scanned the assassin head to toe in silent approbation. Nyfan didn't balk, just puffed up his chest and stood up fractionally straighter. The silence extended out painfully, the tension rising to stifling levels. Kia didn't know where to look, how to stand, but that she knew she wanted this interaction to end, and soon. 

Flexing his wings, Azriel very deliberately placed a hand at the small of Kia's back. His eyes fixed on Nyfan, he slowly leant into Kia's shoulder and placed a featherweight kiss on the exposed flesh between her shirt and her collarbone. Such a blatant display of territoriality would usually have had Kia rolling her eyes, were it not for the electricity that jolted along her skin from the Shadowsinger's haunting touch. His lips lingered a moment, deliberately extending it longer than necessary. It was a conscious, well-targeted provocation, one that had Nyfan gritting his teeth and flaring his nostrils in anger. His emerald eyes darted to the floor, his fists clenched at his sides.

'Enjoy 'Business Relations', Shadowling. Come find me when you're done, I have made plans for you'. 

Azriel's words were sugar-coated barbs angled deliberately at Nyfan, but they also had Kia's insides squirming in anticipation. He strode confidently past the now-furious Nyfan and out of the room. He paused briefly in the doorway, gave Kia a small nod, and left, leaving the door open. She listened as his footsteps faded into the sound of metal on metal in the arena below. 

Kia rubbed a hand to the back of her neck, feeling the exhaustion of six rounds in the ring with an Illyrian Shadowsinger - and a seventh in his arms - wash over her. Nodding to Nyfan to take a chair, she leaned back against the table. 

'When did  _ that _ happen?' Nyfan snarled.

Kia heard the real unspoken question in his words. Why are you with  _ him?  _ She chose to ignore it. Right now, trying to explain the deal with the Shadowsinger felt too complicated, especially when she could barely make sense of it herself. Kia knew the time would soon be approaching when she had to decide whether to let Nyfan in on the truth of their bargain, or keep up this facade with Azriel. She wondered which would hurt him more, to think that she was sleeping with the enemy, or working with one. Kia thrummed the edge of the desk and sighed. At what point on his return to Fifth Street had Nyfan stopped seeing her as a friend and started looking at her like she was something to claim as his own, a territory to mark,

She willed her mind into stillness and said in a clear, flat voice. 'Talk to me about active jobs.' 

Nyfan threw the file down on the desk and marched towards her, closing the space between them. This close, he towered over Kia, his height and breadth filling her line of sight.

'Don't change the subject, why is he here, Kia? Or should I call you  _ shadowling  _ now?'

Something snapped in Kia's chest. She raised herself onto her feet and forced herself to meet Nyfan's smouldering stare. Ripping the glamor off her power, Kia let the room fill with the suffocating pressure of her untamable dominance. Her shadows erupted from that dark place at her core, blotting out the lights of first the table lamps, then those on the ceiling, then the entire arena below. Curses arose from a place somewhere beneath them, as Initatites and Guild Members stumbled about in the dark. Kia could see it all, hear it all, feel it all through her shadows, as if she had been pulled up out of her body and had been watching the whole scene from above. She heard a voice that was both her own and that of a stranger roar.

'I didn't ask your opinion. You don't get to question his presence. So sit down and do your job.' 

Nyfan at least had the decency to bawk at her, stumbling in the dark, before taking a seat at the table. She dragged the shadows back within her, letting light filter back through the rooms of the Sett. Below her, the sound of metal on metal resumed its steady beat, as initiates restarted their training. She didn't fail to notice the way Nyfan's hand shook as he reached for the file on the desk. 

Today was going to be a long day, Kia mused, and she had a feeling it was just getting started. 

\-----

It took a moment for Azriel to process the full weight of the song of shadows. One second there was only the hiss and thrum of his own, and then every other noise was obliterated by a whirling symphony of darkness. The sheer magnitude of it, the crushing sound had nearly brought him to his knees ... but it disappeared as quickly as it came, leaving Azriel standing there stunned. With the light now restored, Azriel re-adjusted his footing and orientated himself around the space, before descending the last of the steps onto the viewing platform. 

Approaching the metal railing around the arena, he allowed himself the briefest moment to marvel at the space before him. Azriel hadn't quite known what to expect when Kia had led him through the back passage of the bookshop and down to the Sett beneath, but he certainly hadn't expected ...this. The sheer scale of the Fifth Street Sett was staggering: it was a cavernous void of rooms, houses, offices, fighting rings etched into the hard face of sheer Quartz rock. And all meer metres below the surface of the city. From the viewing platform looking down, it was like looking into a warped mirror and seeing the metropolis above inverted into a series of mines and pits. Kia had briefly explained that the seemingly endless tunnels that snaked off from the main forum provided access to hidden vantage points across the city. Taverns, streets, shops, waterways, holding cells - Court chambers, even.  _ Targets always expect you to come from above _ , she had said,  _ they bolt their doors, barricade their windows, but they rarely suspect the ground beneath their feet _ . The fact that there were multiple Setts across this city alone, and that they had remained undetected for so long...it was enough to unnerve Azriel slightly. 

Turning now, Azriel made his way towards the cloakrooms just beyond the training grounds. Kia had given him a brief tour earlier, shown him the way to the lockers, the shower rooms, the weapons stores, and explained the facilitates that were available to him as a 'Lover' to one of the Seven. There wouldn't be time to keep traipsing back to the apartment between training and work, so using the Sett made sense; he couldn't fault the logic but he still felt out of place here, at risk in unfamiliar territory. He traced the path she had shown him, following the same rocky corridors and jagged archways. Soon enough, Azriel found his locker and opened it, quickly removing a bundle of black fighting leathers and a white shirt. It was mercifully quiet here but he moved swiftly, aware that if someone made a move in this space he would be at a considerable disadvantage. 

Making his way through the communal washrooms, Azriel followed the corridor round the Kia's personal shower room. Locking the door behind him, he discarded his clothes on a nearby stool and stepped into a large walk-in shower walled by black marble and glass. A solitary shadow lingered by the door, keeping watch. Turning the water facet, Azriel felt a sudden rush of cold water pound his skin; at his back, his wings recoiled, seeking refuge at his spine. The sensation was intense but not unwelcome after hours of training, though it soon passed as by increments the stream of water heated. He ran his wet hands over his skin, loosening the layers of red dust from the training ring that coated his face, chest and feet. Watching the water pool at the floor, it looked almost like blood draining away down the plughole. 

Spying a bottle of body wash at his feet, he reached for it, squeezing it into his palm. He raised it to his face. Closing his eyes and inhaling deeply he let the scent of rain, groves of citrus fruits ripening in the sun, and jasmine blossom overwhelm his senses as he began to drag the soap in large lazy circles over his flesh.

_ Gods _ , it smelt of her... like she was right here in this shower with him. 

The thought of Kia standing naked before him, hair wet and wings dripping had Azriel's cock stirring at his waist. Lazily, he dragged some of the soap down over the muscles of his abdomen and allowed himself to play idly with his hardening length. Rolling his tongue around his mouth, Azriel savored the residual taste of her. Gods, that  _ mouth _ , that  _ kiss _ . He was a centuries-old warrior, a Spymaster, a Shadowsinger, and an assassin's kiss had broken him. The sweetness of her skin, the sound of her pleasure, the feel of her body on his. The furious need to have Kia, to worship her body and soul - the need that had overcome him in that office - returned to him now in full force. Bracing a hand against the wall, Azriel tightened his grip around his aching length and began tugging furiously at himself. He screwed his eyes closed, imagining it was her hands on him, her mouth on him. He loosed a groan to the hiss of the water as his cock throbbed urgently in his grasp.

_ And what if I want ...everything.  _ Those words had been his undoing back there, and threatened to be so now. He still had to fight the urge to march back up to the office, kick that blonde-haired prick out, and fuck Kia long and slow on that table; fuck her until everything beyond that room, beyong there bodies melted away into nothingness. He didn't care who might hear them, who might see them. Hell he wouldn't care if the whole Sett watched as he spread her legs wide and feasted on her slowly, like a starving man at his own personal banquet. He didn't care if they heard her scream his name as he delivered her to orgasm, or when he pushed himself inside her and gave her  _ everything _ . The thought unleashed something within him, pushing him closer and closer to the edge-

_ You're making it very hard to focus on Business Relations, Shadowsinger. _

Her words broke him from his reverie. His hand froze, as his length throbbed in protest, begging for release. Azriel looked down in realisation. The cord. It was glowing bright. He hadn't noticed it in the heat of shower, but lifting it out of the torrent of water and into the air, he felt that sudden familiar warmth. Had she felt everything? Cursing, he sent a thought back down the cord. _You know, you could always join me._

He felt her joyous laughter ripple through him, it was light and mischievous, and despite himself, Azriel couldn't help smiling. 

_ Tempting, but I'd rather take your offer of the desk...  _

Azriel nearly came with the words, but before he could respond she had sent down the cord.

_ Nyfan is kicking off again. Hold that thought. _

Azriel hissed. With the mention of that male the illusion was broken. Now, nothing less than Kia sprawled beneath him would do. Nothing but her hands, her mouth would be enough to satisfy him. Azriel steeled himself, then, grabbing hold of the faucet he yanked it to one side. Freezing cold water tore at his skin.  _ Later _ , he thought, as he growled into the spray.

\----

Azriel dressed quickly and made his way back to the ring. Reaching the railing side, he darted his gaze sheepishly to the Hive office. Kia stood in the window watching him reappear, a devilish grin on her face. He felt himself flush slightly at the intensity in her eyes.  _ Oh, it's on Shadowling _ . Suddenly her focus shifted back towards Nyfan and she was speaking, although at this distance he couldn't make out her words. 

Turning to the ring, Azriel forced himself to focus, to consider the plan that had quickly begun to take shape. Days before he had been roving, aimless, trying to gather intel alone. Now he was here and everything had changed. It was impressive how quickly Kia had marshalled the Sett to the mission at hand.

She hadn't said much at breakfast that morning. Unlike their previous silences, this one had been uncomfortable, full of what he had assumed was the words that remained unspoken between them. She hadn't mentioned him sleeping on the floor, or the fact that he must've tucked her into bed; so he hadn't been brave enough to thank her for the food, or ask about the shadow wings she kept hidden. It was only once they reached the Sett that Azriel had realised Kia's nerves had not been directed towards him, but towards what they faced here today in these halls. 

It was only when Kia sunk her feet into the brick-red dust of the sparring ring and she raised her sword that she seemed to relax. Azriel had known then what it was she had needed: to release some of that tension, that fear about what they were doing, perhaps even some of that straining power that she kept so well hidden. He had felt it too, that need to find control in the familiar ebb and flow of the fight. Azriel had given all he had to her, channeling all of his own frustration and fear into hour upon hour of parries, counter-attacks, ripostes, lunges, as she met him, blow for blow. 

Never before had he faced a member of the Seven, and after today, he wasn't sure if he ever wanted to again. Regardless of her status as Larak's ward, it was evident Kia had earned her place at the top. He had meant what he said in the ring, she was truly beautiful. Fearless and fluid in the way she moved, all sharp lines and soft edges; powerful, poised, and deadly. 

Involuntarily, he felt his eyes dart up the high sets of offices where Kia stood, leaning against the glass, now staring out to nothingness. She wore a slight grimace on face that unsettled him, and he couldn't help but send a burst of reassuring warmth through the cord. Moments later and her eyes had snapped to where he stood. Even from here, Azriel could make out the ghost of a smile on her lips. It eased something in him. He nodded his head to her. It couldn't be easy on her, bringing him here amongst her people and having to deal with their frowns and whispers; the least he could do was show her what her trust meant to him.

Azriel could make out Nyfan rising from his chair and stalking over to where Kia stood; he felt his shoulders stiffen and his jaw clench as the blonde-haired male leaned an arm behind Kia's head and saddled up to her. Azriel wasn't usually so goddamn territorial, but something in the way that Nyfan had looked at Kia roiled him. He didn't need shadows to read what that male wanted to do with her,  _ to _ her, if he had his way. It made him bristle the way possessiveness reverberated off of him in waves, the dank smell of his lust for her. He had seen it often enough in Illyria, the way males tried to claim women despite their obvious lack of interest. She had masked it well, but he had felt Kia recoil through the cord when that male had looked at her, and her unease had ignited something maleficent in him.

Kia had shifted out from under Nyfan now, and headed towards the desk. Azriel loosened a breath he hadn't realised he had been holding. He knew she could handle herself well enough - she had proven as much in the ring - but still, Azriel found his hand drifting to the hilt of Truth Teller. The familiar curves of the dagger settled him into a kind of steely calm. Maybe he would find a way to get Nyfan into the arena, give him a little taste of what awaits him if he so much as laid a finger on Kia, or even thought of double-crossing them.

Sounds from the pit below drew Azriel's attention, and leaning forward he saw two females, dressed in pale grey tunics and tan fighting leathers, sparring. A small cluster of initiates watched on, sometimes pointing to a particular move or blow. Occasionally, someone would dart a look up to the platform, to him, he realised. The Sett had been a slumbering beast when early this morning Kia had dragged him down into the central fighting pit they called 'The Rut'. There had been no one around to whisper or stare then, but now, Fifth Street was alive and buzzing with activity and Azriel couldn't help but feel scores of eyes watching his every movement. How many blades would be sharpened tonight with his face in mind, he mused. 

With a jolt of recognition, a shadow at his back alerted him to Maddox's presence. Silent as a panther, she moved from a place in the dark. 

'Taking notes?' she questioned, approaching the railing next to him. She made a show of watching the match below them, but Azriel could sense Maddox regarding him cautiously, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, making her slim frame appear even smaller, though no less ferocious. 

'You know I swore never to use what I learnt here'. 

'Like that would stop you'.

'You don't trust me?' Azriel stated flatly, leaning his forearms against the metal and turning to face the Sett Master. 

'I don't trust anyone where  _ she _ is concerned' Maddox asserted forcefully, darting a glance up to the meeting room where Kia and Nyfan stood deep in discussion. Azriel followed her lingering gaze; he couldn't help but wonder whether Maddox shared his reservations about a certain blonde-haired head of business relations.

'There was me thinking it was personal,' he quipped, turning his attention back to the female at his side.

'Can you blame me for questioning the intentions of the Night Court's Spymaster when it comes to the happiness of my friend'.

No, he didn't blame her for her doubts. He was an outsider here, a threat to the sanctity of this world she was a part of. They would need to trust each other, though, if their plan was to work.

'I swore a blood oath I would help her find answers, Maddox'. 

She snorted at this, pushing herself back from the railing and whirling on him. 'Did you even know what a blood oath was before you met her?' Maddox's indignation wasn't wholly unexpected. His silence, though, had her shaking her head in frustration.

'Look, I respect the code, so I have begrudgingly accepted your presence here. That's between you and Kia. But hear me when I say this, Shadowsinger, you promise her answers that you can't deliver, you raise her hopes about finding some long-lost family, you hurt her in any way, and so help me Mother, I will destroy you.... Larak, Eris, Rhysand, those males will have nothing - you hear me -  _ nothing _ , on what I would rain down upon you.'  Maddox thrust a finger down to the arena below, 'there is not a single person here who does not owe Kia a life debt, who would not take up arms and follow her to the ends of this earth if needs be. This may just be another mission to you, some task your precious High Lord has sent you on to sure up your defenses, but this is  _ her life _ . She has suffered enough, endured enough, to deserve better than false promises and disappointment. Do we understand each other?'

Yes, he understood perfectly. It was no more than his brothers would have done for him. They spoke the same language, him and her, their violence concealed the depth of their caring. On this much, they were aligned. Azriel loosened the tether of his self-control a fraction, letting his eyes betray a flicker of the icy rage that burned within his soul. They sang the depth of his feelings and the truth of his words as he spoke.

'I don't make promises lightly, Maddox. But I promised Kia.'

Maddox regarded him slowly, her head tilted to one side in silent contemplation. Her lips formed a severe line, as she took in his words. When she spoke, her voice was melancholy, 'No, I don't suppose you do, Shadowsinger'. 

They fell silent then for a moment and Azriel found his eyes wandering over to where Kia stood by the window to the boardroom, hand massaging the back of her neck. The sight of it loosened something in his chest, his fists unclenching from the barrier. 

'Then help me Maddox, so that we can both help her'. 

In his periphery, he saw Maddox shift her balance between her feet, folding her arms behind her back. Eventually, after a long pause, she huffed a breath out in defeat. 

'Fine .... just don't expect us to go for sleepovers and braid each other's hair.'

Azriel couldn't help the faintest whisper of a smile forming on his lips. This female reminded him of Nesta. Fiercely loyal, with a wicked sense of humour. A raging inferno bound in Fae flesh. But ultimately, with a good heart inside. A good friend to have in a world of assassins, he mused.

'Good gods, bat-boy, are you  _ smiling? _ ' 

'I wouldn't dream of it,  _ assassin _ .' He retorted, unable to remove the amusement in his voice. They shared a conspiratorial glance, before Azriel's attention snagged on Nyfan swaggering out of the glass office. 

'I'd watch out for that one if I were you'. 

Azriel didn't need to see where Maddox was looking to know who she meant. 

'You don't trust him?' 

Maddox darted an anxious glance at his back. His shadows hissed her sudden unease to him, and a distinct trace of fear entered into her scent. Her throat bobbed as she looked from Nyfan to him. Azriel felt the slightest breeze as an invisible wall of wind settled around them. It wasn't his powers that had done it, but her own. 

When Maddox spoke, her voice was barely audible. 

'Maybe once, but he, he - ' she cut off here as if trying to find the words 'I think you know what I mean Azriel, when I say that there's a certain type of darkness that roams this earth in the form of a male who thinks the world owes him something. They beat you, they scream in your face, they take what they want and when they are done...' her voice broke here, as Maddox shifted beside him 'and when they are done they discard you, and blame you for what  _ they did _ . Nothing good can come from that kind of aggressive entitlement. 

I believe that male, that  _ creature _ , carries that same darkness.'

She didn't need to say more. Azriel had been around the Priestesses at the House of Wind enough to recognise the tremor in her voice, the glazed, wary look in her eyes. Instinctively, he felt his hand trace the edge of Truthteller, as pure unadulterated disgust rose in his chest. Azriel willed it back: Maddox didn't need him angry or indignant at whatever had happened to her, she needed him to hear her. He nodded his understanding, cooling his fury.

'He can't be removed?' Azriel asked, his tone thick with implication. Maddox gave the barest shake of the head. 

'He's too senior to kill off. Officially, he only holds the position here til the next Guild Trials - it's 9 months away. I will persuade Kia not to renew his contract, if she hasn't already decided that for herself. Until then, there's nothing I can do. That's the code'. Azriel nodded in pained understanding: what was their code but another example of entitled males making rules for other entitled males, he mused. 

'Does she know?' he asked tentatively, inclining his head towards the office, to where Kia stood surveying the arena. 

Maddox shook her head furiously now, her eyes widening with terror. 'It would break her heart; she would blame herself for not securing his first contract, for letting it go to Larak. She would blame herself for trying to show him a better way, for thinking she could help him... And despite all of that I know she would gut him, it would kill her to do it, but she would gut him without a second thought. For me. And then the Guild would seek her head, and I would lose her. So please.... you  _ can't _ tell her'. 

Azriel placed his hands up in swift, earnest reassurance, 'I won't...And you have my word, I will watch him, with her'. 

Azriel's promise to her, that he would try to protect her friend from this threat. Maddox turned back to the ring, trying to calm her breathing.

'Thank you'. 

Azriel dipped his head in acknowledgment, 'If you ever need to talk... I am told I am a good listener.'

Maddox threw him a breezy smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, and dropped the protective shield around them, 'I'd expect nothing less from a decent Spymaster'. 

He huffed out a breath, pushed himself away from the railing.

'Careful, assassin, that sounded dangerously close to a compliment'. 

From somewhere high above them, Kia's voice drifted down to them. She was leaning out over the stairs towards them.

'Pleased to see you two are  _ finally _ getting on. But when you get a minute I need you up here, we have a situation.'

\---

Kia leant against the glass wall, frowning at the black box on the desk before her. There was a solemnity in her features as she forced herself to focus on her breathing. Agitated, she rounded the desk, pulled out a chair, and sat; her fingers formed a steeple as she rested her head into their grip.  _ Less than 48 hours _ , she thought,  _ it took them less than 48 hours _ . She leant back in the chair and closed her eyes, listening for the sound of approaching footsteps and labored breaths.

Kia didn't open them until they had arrived at the foot of the desk. She met their concerned faces with as much calmness as her raging emotions would allow.

'This just arrived in the Bookshop for you, Azriel', she stated, nodding towards the box. He shifted warily, his shadows slowly pooling about his shoulders. Maddox just stared knowingly down, her mouth set in a warry line.

'Why don't you open it...I think you'll want to see what's inside.' 

Azriel paused, before leaning forward and slowly undoing the sable black bow. Cautiously, he lifted the velvet-trimmed cover, and peered inside. His expression was quizzical for a moment, as he set down the lid. He reached inside and pulled out a finely enameled mask. 

He shifted it in his hands, revealing plumes of obsidian peacock feathers, shaped like grey shadows trailed down one side, curving from the temple to the jaw. The two eye holes were slanted in such a way as to give the impression of a cruel smirk, and they were offset by a pair of dark brown eyebrows that look disturbingly like they were made with real hair. What wasn't covered by the tendrils of dark smoke, had the appearance of skin. Not an earthly, rugged warmth of a rosy complexion, though, but a wane off-white shade that looked closer to bone than flesh. Atop the right cheekbone, Kia could make out a small but distinct blood-red heart - the mark of 'The Lover'. 

The disembodied face was cold and impersonal. It was an exquisite, if harrowing, caricature of the Shadowsinger before her. As Kia took in the edges of the cheek, the jaw, she realized with sickening clarity that this mask didn't just resemble Azriel, he matched the shape of his features exactly. Swallowing the bile that was rising in her throat, she forced herself to tear her gaze away from the mask and look up at Azriel's puzzled face.

'This is an invitation', she explained quietly, 'Larak has demanded your attendance by my side at the Guild of Assassin's Annual Huntress Ball'.

\------

  
  



	9. Standing at the Precipice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azriel and Kia face some of the demons of their past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time to address some of the details of Kia's and Azriel's traumatic upbringings and see their relationship develop. I want us to see Azriel open up in a way we don't often see in the books (although through small baby steps) but this does mean this Chapter is quite heavy towards the end. It was important for me to address this aspect of his past, and for him and Kia to find comfort in each other as survivors. 
> 
> This one was hard a tricky one to write, and gosh I hope I have got the balance right. I really hope you all enjoy it :)

'Well, Shadowsinger, the good news is Larak won't kill you for at least another three weeks,' Maddox pronounced cheerfully as she lifted the velvet black box from the desk. Moving across the room she unceremoniously dumped it into the waste bin, 'there is no way he would go to the effort of having that  _ thing  _ made if he wanted you dead before the ball'.

Azriel scowled, gritting his teeth. It may have been her way of lightening the mood, but Gods, he really wanted to kick the Sett Masters arse across the training ring about now.  Larak Devraka was no laughing matter, his reputation for cruelty extended down the centuries; a legacy of ruthlessness that would put even Amarantha to shame. He knew it was only a matter of time before Larak discovered his presence, but still... it took him less than 48 hours. 

'You could sound less gleeful about that Maddox', Azriel muttered lowly.

He looked down at the Volto mask in his hands again. It was like looking at some nightmarish reflection of himself - the features somehow managed to be both sickeningly grotesque and alarmingly lifelike. The shadows about his shoulders recoiled from it, hissing bitterly.  _ Evil. Evil. Evil.  _ He forced himself to set it down and step back, pulling his stare from the wretched thing. 

The implication of the gift was clear. Larak knew the Night Court's Spymaster was at the Fifth Street Sett, and he wanted to make sure that Azriel knew it. He wanted him to be afraid to walk the streets of Carpathia, even with one of the most skilled Guild Members at his side. It was a reminder that his presence would only be tolerated for as long as Larak sanctioned it, and not a second longer. 

The addition of an invite to a ball though puzzled him. Azriel had never once had cause to attend a Guild event or to meet the Guild Master himself. It was part of the terms of Rhys' agreement, that Guild and Court life would be kept entirely separate - no interference, no conflict. Was it possible that his attachment to Kia had somehow caused the end of that truce? Surely he couldn't know about the extent of their deal, else he doubted Larak would be giving him the grace period of three extra weeks. The question still remained though... just how much did Larak know? The thought gnawed away at him.  _ None of this feels right _ . 

Trying to distract himself from this nagging unease that gathered in the pit of his stomach, Azriel cleared his throat and forced himself to meet Maddox's ambivalent expression.

'So what the bad news?' 

Maddox smirked and then sidled up to him. She clapped a firm hand to his back, narrowly dodging his wing. 'The bad news is, you have to put up with me for that time.' 

Azriel shrugged her off, but he couldn't help the smile tugging at his lips. Mother help him, three more weeks of  _ this. _ .. 

Maddox didn't seem to mind and began slowly wiping her hands down her shirt, shuddering slightly. 'Why do they always insist on scenting these blasted things to high heaven,' she hissed.

'It's the scent of lilies,' Kia muttered solemnly, 'funeral lilies'. 

It was the first thing Kia had said since he had opened the box several minutes ago, and Azriel couldn't help pondering what Larak's ward made of all this. Her eyes had now darkened to a shade of midnight violet, and she regarded the mask intently. Her expression was alarmingly calm and collected - all things considered - and yet somehow distant, like her mind was somewhere else entirely. Her face gave nothing away. With a pang of recognition, he realised it was the twin to his own.  _ A wall of impenetrable obsidian _ .

Azriel could detect the barest whispers of Kia's shadows, fractionally louder than before, the slight movement beneath the collar of her black shirt revealing their hiding place. It was perhaps the only sign of the raging tempest of emotion that now swirled inside her, inside them both. Feeling through the cord, he tried to sense her mood. Reaching for her through it was impossible, though, like trying to grab hold of a wisp of smoke. Wherever she had gone, he could not follow. 

'Thank you for that, little Miss Ray of Sunshine' Maddox quipped, leaning across the table and swiping a palm across the side of Kia's head. Kia darted back from the blow, suddenly snapped from her quiet contemplation. A sigh of relief washed through him, as anger flashed across Kia's expression. 

'Ow! Was that  _ really _ necessary? You're the one telling him he has three weeks to live.'

'But it  _ is _ good news my little Raven. You can do a lot with three weeks you know,' Maddox retorted, winking at her. Rolling her eyes, Kia huffed out an exasperated breath.

'Ergh, I hate it when you call me that'. 

'I know,' Maddox pronounced proudly, marching round the desk and plonking herself down into her friend's lap. Kia barked a protest at the imposition, but the Sett Master simply disregarded her discomfort, 'it's so easy to tease you,  _ Raven _ . But you love me for it, it keeps you humble'. 

Scoffing, Kia gave Maddox a quick jab to the ribs. The faintest of smiles now graced her lips. Azriel had never been so glad of Maddox's uncanny ability to excite violence and irritation. At least Kia was present now, albeit sulking like a child.

It was almost a shame to interrupt their exchange, but the unexpected addition to their plan needed addressing.

'I have never heard of the Huntress Ball. It's a Guild event?'

The two females simply stared, mouths slightly ajar, their attention now fixed on him. Maddox slowly shook her head in disbelief. 'He isn't joking is he?' 

Shifting uncomfortably, Azriel focused his attention on the edges of the fraying rug below his feet, trying to bite back a snarl. Maddox's laugh broke through the silence, each cackle at his expense like a physical blow landing on his skin. 

'Mother above... I take it back you really are a  _ terrible  _ Spymaster,' she stammered between bouts of cackling. Azriel was vaguely aware of Kia telling her to be quiet, but it only seemed to excite another laughing fit. 

He knew Maddox spoke more in jest than malice, but the words wormed their way under his skin and unsettled him. Information was his armor, he was used to having its protection in his line of work. Now without it, he felt utterly exposed. He couldn't even begin to comprehend the extent of what he didn't know about the Guild, about Eris, about the whole goddamn situation in the Autumn Court... and he  _ hated _ it. Every time he had to ask them a question, seek clarification, grapple with this unfamiliar world, it was like exposing his own inadequacy. He was never like this, he was reliable, knowledgeable to a fault, he prided himself on it.

'Azriel?' a soft and inquiring voice called to him but it was far off, drowned out by the voices in his own mind. 

_ Look at yourself, what are you but a directionless, ignorant brute in way over his head.  _ It was a mistake to come here alone. He should have listened to Rhys. Why else would Amren send Kia to him? A clawing reminder that Rhys' second had noted Azriel was not himself, that he barely slept, ate, or kept up with the pace of his work ... not since Elain chose Lucien over him. 

_ Look at me, Azriel.  _ The words were louder now, this time coming clear and forcefully down the cord. He ignored them. 

He was letting them down, his High Lord, his High Lady... his family. The coiling icy anger that spiked within him had his shadows hissing louder, angrier. He would never be good enough, not for Rhys, not for Cassian, not for Mor, and especially not for Elain. He was tainted, lost, and alone. 

_ Don't you dare think that, not for one fucking second.  _

The ferocity of the voice that barrelled down the cord shattered the stream of Azriel thoughts, forcing him to look up in search of the voice. He couldn't see. The sudden warmth that now radiated through his arm and into his chest made him blink and realise that he had loosened his shadows throughout the entire room, covering the desk, the floors, the walls in a film of whirling grey smoke. All at once, there was only noise, information. His shadows were practically screaming. They saw too much, said too much. It was drowning out all his other senses.

Through the noise and the darkness, Azriel felt that familiar jolt of warmth radiating from his right arm up into his chest. Looking down to wrist through the noise, he saw the cord glowed white and bright, reaching out through the shadows.  _ You are not tainted. You are not alone. You are here with me.  _ He held onto those words, reaching his fingers out towards the light of the cord and holding onto it tight. Slowly, the shadows began to retract and the noise subsided; they coiled their way back up his legs and arms, retreating inch by inch across his body till they sat squat over his neck... 

...and then suddenly there she was, standing in front of him, cupping his face in her hands.  _ Kia _ . Azriel wasn't sure if he spoke or simply thought her name, but she smiled in recognition. This close, he could see the tight concern in the frown on her brow, and the surprisingly golden flecks embedded in her amethyst irises. He blinked, drinking the sight of her in, grounding himself in the feel of her callused fingers softly stroking the stubble at his jaw. It was soothing, settling that noise in his head and forcing the hiss of his shadows to stillness and quiet. 

Azriel found his eyes dart to where Maddox stood in his peripheral vision, the assassin shifting warily, her face ashen. 

_ Maddox has seen plenty of my shadows over the years. It's ok,  _ Kia's voice whispered down the cord. The silent words pulled Azriel focus back to Kia.  _ Besides ...she kind of deserved that one.  _ She offered him a kind, sympathetic smile, before slowly releasing her hands from his face and stepping back.

'You wanted to know about the Huntress Ball?' Kia affirmed, her voice gentler now as she backed up. Swallowing, Azriel gave the briefest of nods.

'Of course. Later, we can go down to the Initiates Library and see if we can't get you some books that cover the basics of Guild Life, so you feel less out of the loop. But for now we are more than happy to answer any questions you have...  _ won't we  _ Maddox', Kia flicked a terse look in the Sett Masters direction, who shuddered before nodding - albeit a little too emphatically. Kia chuckled quietly to herself before turning back to face him, shifting to perch against the desk.

'For now, what you need to know is this. The Huntress Ball is what you might call the Guild's answer to Winter Solstice Celebrations. Every year at the Hiemal Solstice female assassins gather to honor Neith, the Goddess of the Hunt; we bathe outside beneath the light of the moon and wash the blood from our hands and the souls from our shoulders. We then gather together to raise a glass in Neith's name. Celebrations run from sundown to sun up, and with the first light of dawn we go our separate ways... a reminder that one day our own hunt will end, and another journey only we can take alone will begin.'

'If you go by the priestesses version of events that is' Maddox interjected, regaining some of the colour in her cheeks, 'for many, it's also the one night a year when the females' reign supreme in the Guild. It has become a night to remember sisterhood; we play games, drink, sing, dance and generally get up to no good. Males have to buy presents for the females or face the dreaded wrath of Neith and a years poor hunt... Think of it like a big festive family gathering, only with more weapons, more violence, and more female empowerment. 

Kia shook her head dismissively and shifted to reach for the discarded carnival mask. Running her fingers carefully along the grey feathers. 

'Only the uppermost echelons of the Guild go to the Huntress Ball', Kia continued, 'each year a different city hosts the ball... this year, incidentally, is Carpathia's turn. It is a rather formal affair, black tie and ball gowns. It's one of the few Guild events where outsiders are welcomed - although only a handful of prominent clients and High Fae receive invites - so at least you won't be alone in that respect. In the past, the Ball has been used as a way to smoose the elite of Prythian into bed with the Guild, showing a more respectable, pleasurable,  _ palatable  _ side to the work we do. 

Details of the location won't be revealed until hours before, meaning it will be impossible to scope out the exact security at the Ball ahead of time. Those on guard are highly trained guards from the Guild Masters personal ranks... so there will be no rescue parties at this affair.

This mask is your formal admittance, it is your invite. The Guildmaster has them specially made for each guest in advance: no mask, no admittance. Maddox and I received ours a few weeks back. In your case...as a Lover to one of the Seven, you have received an invite by proxy. You see here?' 

Kia pointed to the small red heart on one cheek of the mask, 'this is the symbol of the Lover. Anyone who meets you at the Ball will know you are Lover to one of the Seven, and will treat you accordingly.'

'So Larak knows we took the Oath?' Azriel questioned.

He didn't miss the way Kia winced at Larak's name, her expression becoming sombre. What had he done to her - to this joyous, fearless, beautiful woman before him - to make her retreat into herself every time his name was mentioned. What horrors must she have to face in order to keep living this life, here in the Guild, with Larak bearing down upon her? Azriel's hand dropped involuntarily to Truthteller, feeling the cold steel of the hilt against his scarred, uneven skin. 

Folding her hands across her chest in self-embrace Kia whispered, her voice barely audible,

'It would seem so, and he wants us both to know it.' 

The vulnerability in her voice had some unspoken fear rising within him. Would Kia regret offering to help him, if helping Azriel meant facing that monster? The thought was like a knife twisting in his gut and ignited something dark and vengeful within him. 

If he ever got the chance, he would make sure Larak knew true suffering before the end of his wretched existence. Whatever the coming weeks brought to their doorstep - whatever dangers Larak threatened against them - Azriel would be prepared. He would focus this unsteadiness within him, channel his emotions into order, learn every goddamn line of the Guild code if needs be. And when Larak was dealt with... he would find Kia the answers she needed about her past. But right now, he needed to help ease the pain that now hid just beneath the surface of her glassy eyes. 

He stepped closer to her, 'And we have three weeks before then?' 

A nod was Kia's only response. In the corner, Maddox stood eerily quiet, watching her friend closely.

Grabbing Kia's discarded jacket from the back of the chair, Azriel tossed it to her. Kia's head snapped up in surprise as she darted to catch the jacket midair. 

'Three weeks to live,' Azriel mused aloud to the room, 'We can work with that'. 

Before Kia could stop to say anything he had turned on his heel and headed towards the door, calling out to her, 'We are going out.' 

Maddox started to move, but Azriel shook his head, 'Not you assassin, you have love letters to read.'

\----------

It was already late afternoon as Azriel left the Sett through the Book Shop. The hours spent below ground had disorientated him, the artificial light of the Sett and it's lack of windows causing the day to slip by faster than expected. He had to locate the position of the sun over the veering rooftops in order to reattune himself to the passage of time - an old trick he had learned early in his training at the Illyrian War Camp, where there were few timepieces to be had. Finding his bearings, he began snaking through the crowds of commuting workers trudging through the cobbled pathways of the Old City on their daily pilgrimage home. 

He didn't look back but he could feel that Kia had fallen into step just behind him, following him dutifully in silence. Carefully, he traced his way back to the small Pizzeria on the corner of 7th street he had spied earlier that day on their walk in, pausing outside to face Kia. Her expression was wary.

'If you're hungry we could always get food in the Sett, we do have a cafeteria,' she posed thoughtfully.

'I thought we could eat out. I owe you after all.'

Her brows furrowed at this, in clear confusion. 

'Owed me for what?' she countered, darting her head nervously from the shop front to him.

Azriel shrugged, blood rising to his cheeks. He really was out of practice with the niceties of conventional 'dating'. Had it always been this hard, or was he just more awkward and cumbersome around her?

'That first night' he started, trying to phrase it as casually as he could, 'you said if I wanted to thank you for saving my life, to win you around, I could at least get you dinner and a drink'. Azriel shifted on his feet, painfully aware of Kia's gaze upon him. 

Kia's eyes were wide with surprise, and it was her turn to shift awkwardly from foot to foot. 

'Azriel...I appreciate the thought, I really do but- '. 

_ Shit.  _ She was rejecting him. He couldn't bare to hear her finish the sentence.

__ 'But you don't want to go for dinner with me,' he interjected.

It was more of a statement than a question. Azriel looked away, trying to marshall his emotions in order.  __ He thought that after what passed between them in her office and then the shower that it might be a nice opportunity to spend some time together, to get to know each other. A welcome escape from the heaviness of the day's events. _ Fool. _

A hand on his arm brought his attention up to her. 

'No- it's not that.... It's just.... that if you take me to dinner at Greasy Gollows, Shadowsinger, the only thing you will be thanking is the toilet bowl.' 

Azriel blinked once, twice, slowly comprehending. She wasn't rejecting him... just rejecting his choice of restaurant. She smiled apologetically,

'A few months back we sent an initiate - and a newcomer to the city - out to get pizza whilst we worked late on a case' Kia leaned in and continued in a low whisper, crossing her arms lightly across her chest and shifting her eyes warily 'the cafeteria had shut for the night. We didn't check the box when he returned, we were all so rapt in the work. Well... at least not until Maddox projectile vomited down Nyfan.' 

Her eyes lighted with wicked humour, drawing back now to stand upright. The thought of the smug Nyfan covered in the Sett Master's sick was oddly satisfying and had the edges of Azriel mouth tugging upwards in amusement.

'No one in the office left their rooms - their bathrooms that is - for a week. A whole week. So, if you want me sick to my stomach, Azriel, take me to Gollows. But if you really want to thank me...' 

She cut herself off, glancing quickly about them. Furtively, Kia slunk into a side street behind the restaurant. 'Come on,' she whispered low.

Finding a drainpipe, Kia tugged at it, checking it hung tight to the wall. Seemingly satisfied, she hoisted herself from the ground and began shimmying upwards, reaching the first floor, the second, the third, and then the roof in a matter of moments.  _ Impressive. _ One moment she was standing beside him and the next she disappeared over the roof. He heard the laughter in her voice as she called out to him to join her. 

'I won't say it again. Keep up, Shadowsinger'. 

Azriel chuckled at this, his mood lightening in the face of her smile. He shifted to follow her. His body was larger than hers, more heavily built, which made his ascent up the building less graceful than Kia's, but in less than a minute they were both on the tiles. He had barely hauled himself to his feet before Kia had sprinted from across the ridge of the roof and vaulted onto the next. It was effortless, like a cat casually jumping from one fence to the next. Kia's body shifted through the air with remarkable ease and grace. Stumbling to keep up, Azriel began trailing her, as they launched themselves from chimney stack to chimney stack. 

Kia's bubbling laughter carried on the breeze to him, pushing him to move faster to get closer to her. Soaring between the rooftops, lurching the gaps between buildings as the sun beat down upon his back and the streets hummed below... it made him feel alive. He hadn't realised how constricted he felt being underground in the Sett, the way his wings had ached to be in a space with no ceiling - to tear across the city line, with the sky above him and the ceilings and parapets beneath their feet. It was like dancing on air. 

The chase was over too soon. Azriel saw Kia slow her pace, dropping to a low crouch as she slid her body down a sandstone gable. Edging along the rain gutter, she located the downspurt and with a jump, gently zipped towards the floor of the narrow side street. She waited for him to join her before she dragged him out onto the main through fair, with a look of sheer glee on her face.

The street was lined with cafes, bakeries, patisseries, and delicatessens and the air hung with the sweet scent of baking bread, spice and coffee. The excitement was barely contained on Kia's features as she bounded from shop window to shop window pointing out various sweet treats, buns and snacks, telling him their names, their ingredients, how they were made.  _ Lou's did the best soda bread, but Azriel had to try Wasmere's scones. Had he been to the white rabbit? No? Well then he would have to go there for cheesecake sometime. If they wanted to get a drink, there was a fantastic coffee house on the corner.  _ Kia was practically glowing as she had taken his arm and guided him through the thoroughfare. Her smile was infectious, young, and carefree, and happily, he let himself be dragged along in her wake, listening to her explanations in silent rapture. At some point, he stopped looking at the food and just started staring at her, trying to remember every detail of her wondrous expression as she careened from shop to shop. It was humbling to see her so full of life, so vibrant... it was impossible to look away. He could get lost in just watching her.

Occasionally, Kia would pull him into a shop, offering warm greetings to the owner before listing off an order. Each time she would ask him if he wanted anything, but he refused, letting her pick enthusiastically for them both. He was glad of it, especially when Kia paused just outside the shop to lift a choux bun up to him in silent offering. Azriel had reached forward and taken it into his mouth eagerly, hungry after their long day and weeks of bland inn meals on the road. 

He had perhaps lingered a little too long to long to lick a dribble of icing that had run down her fingers, watching her gaze darken at the suggestion in his touch... but that was when the taste had hit him, and all other thoughts were forgotten. It was incredible, unlike anything he had ever had. It was sweet but sharp, a light zest -perhaps orange, lemon? - creamy but not too rich. It really was exquisite, better than anything he would ever have picked for himself. He couldn't remember the last time he tasted food so good. The delighted expression on her face must have mirrored his own, as he savored each mouthful. 

'Good right?' She had said, reaching for one herself. Azriel could all but groan his response as he chewed his way through the blissful layers of pastry and cream. 

They had carried on like this for some time, accumulating small boxes of treats as they went, pausing to eat on street corners and outside shops, til they were full, content, and drowsy. 

They must have passed hours like this, with the warm autumn afternoon slipping effortlessly into the wisps of the evening. On their quiet stroll back to the apartment their bodies had moved in unison, subtly drawn together against the chill in the air. In the close proximity, their finger brushed past each other, and at some point Azriel couldn't quite place... his hand had found its way into hers. The scars of his skin married with the callouses on her hands, their fingers laced together in an uneven, but oddly perfect fit. Kia hadn't acknowledged the contact, but neither had she attempted to pull away, and so they carried on comfortably silent, watching the city carousel around them.

Entering the attic apartment once more, Azriel was suddenly painfully aware of just how small the space was, how close there bodies were as they fumbled awkwardly about in the kitchen putting the boxes away from their excursion.

Out of the breeze, he now could smell the scent of sugar, caramel, and passionfruit around her mouth, on her fingers. Azriel could barely think beyond the thought of how it would taste to kiss her, to lick the residue from her skin. He could feel Kia sneaking brief glances up at him, a flush rising to her cheeks as she moved to the sink to pour herself a drink. As Kia reached past him for a glass from the table, he felt the fabric of her shirt brush past his bare forearm and the hint of her breast underneath. They both stilled at the contact, as the ease and joy of their afternoon evaporated replaced by something headier. The cord at his wrist warmed, and he caught her sweet breath hitch... 

Before he could speak, could reach for her, Kia had shifted nervously back, angling herself towards the lounge area at the far end of the room. Azriel hadn't ever seen her so  _ shy _ , so unsure of herself. Was she uncomfortable around him, uncertain of him. It seemed so at odds with how they had been but hours before. What had changed? He paused, watching her carefully. Kia fidgeted, picking up pillows from the sofa and rearranging them aimlessly.

'.I - I had a nice time this afternoon,' she stuttered quietly, turning to look up at him. He gave her a tight but warm smile.

'Hmm,' Azriel took a step towards her, 'Me too.'

Taking another tentative step, he gradually closed the distance between them. Kia swallowed and looked away timidly, setting down the pillows and edging backwards towards the door. 

'I know why you did it, why you took me out.' 

This stopped him dead in his tracks. 

'You wanted to take my mind off La...  _ his _ warning,' Kia continued, her voice was small and quiet now, 'You didn't have to but I... I appreciate it.' 

Kia thought he had only taken her out to distract her. True, he had wanted to take her mind of the threat, to remove some of the fear that had reigned in her eyes after he received the invite. But more than that, he just wanted an opportunity to spend time with her. To get to know her. He felt seen with her, understood, and Azriel had begun to crave the brief moments they were alone. 

But what if she thought he was only doing this trying to distract  _ himself _ from the Ball, seeking her closeness to block out the enemy at the gates. Azriel cursed inwardly. No wonder she was so hesitant around him, she was used to the likes of males like Nyfan seeking only one thing...

'You-You should take the bed tonight' she pronounced, her words assertive but breathless, 'your right shoulder, it looked like it was giving you grief in the ring. The floor can't be doing you any good'. 

This, he hadn't been expecting. The change of tack had thrown him off completely. He tilted his head to one side and regarded her carefully, at a total loss for words. No one knew about the wound to his shoulder except him. Years in the ring with Cassian and Rhys and they had never once picked up on this weak spot. Not once, and yet, she noticed. 

....But it didn't matter. There was no way she was sleeping on the floor for him. 

'That's not up for discussion, Kia. You're taking the bed,' he stated flatly. 

She shook her head decidedly, 'I had it last night'.

'I'm not making you sleep on the floor, Kia'. 

She didn't relent, but simply folded her arms firmly across her chest. 'No one is making me do anything, I am offering'.

'And I am refusing.' 

She narrowed her eyes at him. 'Fine'.

'Your giving in?' Azriel couldn't withhold the surprise from his voice. Kia wasn't one for acquiescing easily. Ignoring his question, she turned and stomped in the direction of the bedroom. She re-emerged minutes later, arms laden with pillows and blankets.

'What are you doing?' he asked, shifting out of the way to allow her past.

Kia leaned down, dropping the bedding into a heap. Blowing a strand of fringe from her face, she began stretching out sheets over the floor, orientating pillows to one end. Lowering herself to the floor, she sat cross-legged and began to peel offer her leather jacket and then each of her boots. Unbuckling her weapons belt, she withdrew a pair of twin daggers and placed them under a pillow.

'What does it look like? I am getting ready for bed, Shadowsinger. I can just as easily refuse the bed as you can'. 

Azriel dragged his hand through his hair in exasperation. Stubborn, stubborn female. Pulling up a blanket about her middle, Kia fumbled about beneath the covers. Seconds later, a hand emerged and discarded a pair of leggings on the pile of clothes. He tried not to think about her bare legs, of her nakedness under the blankets. For once his frustration at not being  _ with her _ was matched by his frustration  _ at her _ . Shifting forward, he grabbed the bedding he had folded and left at the foot of the sofa this morning. He began laying it out carefully on the floor beside him.

'I could just put you to bed again after you fall asleep,' he muttered cooly, removing his shoes.  _ Not that he would be able to sleep now, anyway. _

She gave him a sickly sweet answering smile and lifted the corner of her pillow to expose one of the daggers. The wicked glint in her eye was back, all shyness given over to something decidedly more deadly.

'I am better prepared this time,  _ Azriel _ .' 

The way she said his name stoked something fierce within him. This female ... Gods she was magnificently, maddeningly infuriating. 

Slowly, purposefully, Azriel began to peel back his shirt. He didn't fail to miss the way her eyes clouded, drinking in the details of his body.  _ Nice to see he wasn't the only one distracted.  _ Letting the shirt fall to the floor, he crouched down low beside her. Withdrawing Truth Teller from its sheath, he turned and lifted his own pillow and placed it carefully underneath. 

'Duly noted,  _ shadowling _ ,' he whispered, tucking the stray piece of fringe behind her ear, 'duly noted'. 

Shifting he settled into his own temporary bed, the unforgiving wooden floorboard causing his wings to squirm in protest. Annoying, he felt the familiar twinge of pain from his shoulder. Gritting his teeth, he refused to let himself focus on the ache. He couldn't bare her being right on this one.

Azriel laid like that for some time staring up at the ceiling, letting his mind wander over the events of the day. His shadows called him to sleep, but he was too unsettled. Better to sit back and wait for exhaustion to overtake him, letting it drag his body down into rest. Beside him Kia shifted restlessly, pulling the covers this way and that.  _ At least she is as frustrated as I am _ . She huffed out a breath exasperatedly, dropping her arms heavily onto the covers.

'Can't sleep?' Azriel couldn't keep the sarcasm from his voice as reached an arm up behind his head and turned to face her.

Kia huffed, shifting onto her back and kicking the blankets away. 'Nope.'

'Me neither.' 

She sighed and shifted to face him, her raven-black curls slipping over her shoulder onto the pillow. 'What's keeping  _ you _ up?'

Azriel lifted his shoulders up, shifting the position of his wings before leaning back. Sleep evaded him so often these days, it was hard to pinpoint a single, precise reason. There was one thought that he hadn't yet been able to settle though, that had nagged away at him for much of the day.

'The invitation to the Huntress Ball.'

'Ah,  _ that _ .' 

'Would you tell me about him... about Larak?'

'What do you want to know?' she responded cautiously, turning onto her back once more to stare blankly up at the rafters.

'You said he was the only family you can remember. How did you come to be his ward?'

Kia's bitter laugh broke through the stillness of the night at this. It sounded coarse and unnatural leaving her body. 'Ha... Larak is no family of mine.'

Azriel didn't push her, he had seen how she responded to talk of the Guildmaster and knew that if she wanted to, she would respond in her own time. She was quiet for a long while, so long that Azriel thought she might have finally drifted to sleep. But eventually, he felt her shift beside him, pulling up the blanket about her once more. 

When she spoke, her voice was barely a whisper.

'I am technically Larak's ward, yes, but he was never my family. I - I don't remember my birth family, I ... can't remember anything before the day I woke up in the Sett of Daggers. I didn't know where I was back then, didn't recognise the room.

His was the first face I saw... Larak's. He was just standing there over my bed watching me, emotionless and cold. I was disorientated and my body felt heavy. Everything hurt. I was crying. But he didn't reach out to me, he didn't even smile... 

He just told the servants to restrain me as I screamed. 

I didn't see him again for weeks after that; I lost count of how long it was. Every morning a servant would come to untie me and make me pace about the room, to eat, to bathe, before they restrained me again. They would return again at nightfall and repeat the same routine. None of them would even look me in the eye, they never spoke a word. I could barely form words in my head, and my tongue was so heavy... but with whatever words I could muster I begged them to tell me who I was, where I was, why I was there. Eventually, I think I just begged them to talk to me, to stay. But they never did. 

As much as I willed my body to fight, it was like stumbling through a fog, like trying to move with weights tied around your limbs and the world spinning. At some point, it just became easier to comply.'

Azriel could feel Kia's body trembling through the floorboard. She swallowed audibly before continuing, her breath shaky.

'I don't remember many of the people who came, but there... there was this girl, she couldn't have been that much older than me. She used to come to change the bed linens.

I will never forget her. She had the most beautiful long auburn hair and kind eyes. Gentle baby blue eyes. I - I remember her smell, like spiced oatmeal, honey and thyme. She never spoke, but sometimes, sometimes when the night terrors came, she would come to my room to change the sheets and just hold my hand. Stroke my hair till I fell back to sleep. It was the only kindness I had known. I started longing for the night terrors if only so she would come...

...Until one day, a servant discovered her asleep by my bed, her hand in mine. 

That was when I next saw him. Larak.

He made all the servants assemble in my room. He had me brought from the bed... forced me to kneel on the floor, arms and legs bound. That's when he brought her out - the girl. Her braid had come undone, and she was crying, holding her arms up to Larak in silent prayer. Yet still, she said nothing...'

Kia lifted her sleeve to her face and wiped frantically at the tears that now leaked down her face. She gulped down short rasps of the air; the covers quivering over her chest. Azriel reached out his hand to hers in the dark, a silent offering of his support. She glanced over, her expression bleak as she slowly entwined her fingers with his. Bracing herself, she went on, 

'I still remember the sound of the punch that shattered her jaw. The cry that left her lips no more than a strangled garble.... And then the silence, the impossible silence as they all watched Larak butchered her slowly before my very eyes.

And when her body was so broken it could no longer support itself and she had collapsed beside me, her eyes pleading and her mouth ajar, that is when I saw it. The squat stump in her mouth where her tongue should have been.

....They had all had their tongues removed. Every. Single. Servant. All so no one would talk to me.

The girl died there, on the floor of my prison. Larak had her body to be left there all night. Told them I was to stay on the floor beside her till daybreak. If I tried to move, the servants were to drag me back. But they didn't need to. I held her broken bloody in my shackled arms. I held her till her blood-soaked my clothes and dried in my hair, til the warmth left her body and it became cold and rigid. I held her all night, til my own body collapsed from our collective weight.

... and when the sun rose and the servants came to remove her, something broke in me.

I wasn't going to let go of her. I wasn't ready to let her die nameless and speechless on that floor, in that room, and neither was I. I wasn't going to be a prisoner anymore. There were so many emotions I could barely think, breathe, I was all burning rage and icy wrath, hateful vengeance and utter despair... and with it came so much power. It exploded from somewhere within me, unleashed. And then there was only shadow and darkness, wings, and power. 

At first, Larak tried everything he could to subdue it. He tried to drug me, tried to have Fae and Spellcasters restrain me with wards and shields. He -'

Kia darted a nervous glance over to Azriel, her eyes wide with terror.

'- he had a surgeon try and saw off my wings.'

Azriel felt bile rising up the column of his throat.  _ Mother above _ . He swallowed in back, trying not to imagine the unimaginable pain of someone taking his wings from him. Not just the physical pain...but the loss. The horror she had endured.

Kia was rising to sit upright now, clearly agitated. She was jittery, but a steeliness, a defiance had settled into her expression.

'But no matter how they cut me, butchered me, the power always came back stronger, my wings grew back thicker. 

I clawed my way through every torment he put before me. I broke through, walls, doors, windows trying to get away, and every time he would drag me back kicking, screaming, and bloody. But I refused to stop... killing any wielder that bastard dare brought to torment me. 

Until, eventually, he had no other option than to grant me my freedom. He made me an offer...he would let me leave that room, leave that house... but in return, I had to train for the Guild Trials, to become a Guild Member and his ward. I had to stop running.'

She turned to him now, all passion and rage. 

'So no, Azriel, Larak is not my family. He is a monster who broke me before I even knew what I was. He took everything and -' something broke in her voice as her rage abated, replaced by a look of utter devastation.

'I - I still don't know her name, Az, the girl who died for me.... I - I still don't even know my own name.'

Her voice crackered as she admitted this last truth, collapsing in on herself as violent sobs overtook her. Tears ragged down Kia cheeks as she desperately tried to gasp down the breath, her shoulders rising and falling with the weight of her desperate grief.

'I. Don't. Know. My. Own. Name.' 

Reaching out to her across the space, Azriel pulled Kia into his arms and absorbed the sound of her cries. Her head collapsed against his chest, her neck unable to support its weight as she gave herself over to the tears. He whispered comfort into her hair, rocking her back and forth.

'I know', was all he said as he stroked her back, feeling her body shake against his, 'I know'.

The way her body quaked with this pain broke something in Azriel; dragged him to the edge of that void within his soul, that pit in which pain and bitter isolation screamed, to the place where the shadows had found him. Her words forced him to look, to stare into that darkness and see what stared back... 

After a little while in silence, Azriel lifted his fingers to her chin and gently turned her face to his. When she tried to avert her gaze he whispered softly.

_ 'Look at me'.  _ Hesitantly, Kia fluttered her red-rimmed eyes up to meet him. 

He stroked the pad of this thumb lightly over her cheek and smiled warmly at her. His eyes gave her a silent promise that his touch was for comfort, and nothing more. Releasing her chin, he wove his hand through her hair and rested their foreheads together. 

The words were leaving his mouth before he could think before the void within him could consume him again. The words he had never given anyone else before....

'I understand. I - I know what it is to be trapped, to be alone, to be hurt by those who were meant to love you most, to protect you. But you and I, we survived. We got out and we will never go back to that cage they built for us. Hear me when I say you are more than what he did to you, even on your worst days. You are not a creature of Larak's making, a weapon of his design, you are your own person, and ... I see you. You are not alone. You are here with me.... and one day, he will pay. For her, and for you.'

Azriel gave her these words, the only comfort he could give to another survivor, to one who had been through so much and knew what it was to channel a torrent of icy rage within one's soul. To show her that she was not alone on that precipice, staring into the void, that he was right there with her. That together, they might force their demons back and reclaim something of themselves. To remind her that their lives were victories marked in the steps they took forward, despite all that dragged them back. That together, there was a path to healing and acceptance, regardless of all the suffering.

Slowly, he felt Kia's breaths ease and her body relax into his. They sat there like this for some time, willing back the darkness with every minute that passed til it was nothing more than a whisper in the breath they shared.

For a moment, he thought back to the boy he had been... the cell he had had to escape to get here... and for the first time, in a long time, he forgave the creature who had crawled out of that house - that place that should have been a home - bloodied, burnt, and broken inside. He forgave him for the things he did to survive because without him, he wouldn't have the life he had now.

...And somewhere, somewhere between the edges of sleep and reality, he thought heard her whisper.

'Thank you.'

\-------------  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


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